Aimless Existence in Unreality
Delivered on the shores: delivered on the bed.
Deserted on the shores: deserted on the bed.
-paradise lost again-
there is beauty in death (once said)
on the body nothing
but the white azure,
in simplicity there are none that manifest violence, though we die, in simplicity though we die we are pure.
(nevertheless we perish in unconscious sadness)
-everything we wish to see-
the lost spiritual fontpetaled path;
(he saw their faces,
their spirits milken and flower,
he saw them fast and pray,
he sang and shone
while the mimosas bloomed)
...on the way he slept
Christopher DeRoche lives in New Orleans. He's 18 years old, and this is his first time published.
Issue 11 or Lodestar Quarterly home page