Weakened Saturday filament strung out in a sweaty bed, eternal thread weaving together a bore-hoard of grimy lung-heaves— treasure troves of resurrection ground into the fine repeated puncture of waking
~ Jacqueline Viola Moulton is an artist and writer living and working in Seattle, WA. She is a Ph.D. Candidate in Philosophy and Aesthetics. instagram: @jacquelineviola
Slum Valley Blues I’m just one the various ghosts you call when the bass knocks against the wall on those nights you make diamonds out of dimes and half your
Book-Demon Questers We are drawn to dragonblaze shadows, Moths to candles’ skin-toasting frolics, For the seed of ruth that within glows Enduring foul clementine colics Tumour-like through blood and bone
Pluto we almost got hit and killed last night on the road behind the dam when another car came out of nowhere or—it’s good I hadn’t pulled into then lane
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