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ceaselessly.

she and i wore facepaint. i was a clown
and she was a warrior, scowling and willing.
she was a warrior, scowling. i made her laugh
and she kept me safe, and we kept each other sane
through the end days.

we hid alone in a room
through the end days. kissing and laughing
pretending the news wasn’t true, pretending
the news wasn’t true because it simply
wasn’t news.

she and i got off on technicalities, she and i
strung each other through loopholes and whispered,
isn’t this erotic, sweetheart?

isn’t this erotic?

sweetheart.

the animals changed, like they were supposed to, but we
never did, we never changed, we stayed inside
and we stayed so safe that it seemed
things had always been this way. things would always be this way.

it’s easy, you know, to lose track of the days
lose track of the end days
lose track
what’s a day?

we became three, without warning, and two of us realized:
we had lost track of the days.
fix things before they’re too late.
fix things before they’re too late

like she asked, with those eyes
and i couldn’t
say no.

i thought only once, and that was to say yes.

without her, it is one endless day. there are none left
to keep track of, now.
all the days are the same now.
all of my days are the same.
but the last word she spoke was my name
and i’ll see her again at my end.

ash-ghosts of the finest velvet place their bets after the last game of the day has been forfeited by levi hatle is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

there’s something to be said for
intimacy with borders. we
have
become
cartographers, etching out our
boundaries
deciding
instead of discovering. our ink is
the atmosphere of bitten lips, discomfort manifest
and tangible. we write on what we call new slates, but
the pencil marks erased
are still visible.

open-ended outlines, or the skeletal cartographers map out the present by levi hatle is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

though if i’d known i was doing it, i’d still have
said the same thing.
for i’m a liar, too.

i wasn’t going anywhere
when he came along with his admirable attire
to match what i desired, in an outfit.
and i went absolutely nowhere when i learned
what lived inside it. a liar and a thief, a
domino.

i wasn’t going anywhere
when he showed up again
and sunk his claws into my back
and i thought i liked the piercing, but
when you’re trying to be hopeful, anything
touching your heart feels good, even
when it’s something black and deadly, like a
snake, a creature harmless enough, so long as
you leave the ones with poison in their fangs
alone in the desert or the forest.

what could i do when the snake chased me down?
hunted me, made me prey?
made me pray?
made me.
that’s all that he was. i thought those fangs
were the claws of a dragon.

i wasn’t going anywhere
when he showed up to make it worse
living in close quarters and
talking smack about me to anyone with ears.
i never did understand who he was so
jealous of, to talk of me in such a manner.
after all, hadn’t i tried to be the most hospitable to him in
his time of need?
i guess it doesn’t matter when
lashing out is all you’re capable of.

i certainly felt the whip.

i was trying so hard to get to where i wanted to be
when

block

she was mostly sorry about
her inability to talk, as though
her whole mind had been glued shut
to keep everything quiet.

obstacles on aimless wanderings by levi hatle is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

blind your own eyes with walls

what will you do when the winter arrives, cold and desolate and begging for company? the snow falls

just for you now, the snow falls just for you, and though you can’t see the frozen trees they’re breaking for your promises, they’re

taking all your blame and pain, remembering what summer looked like, before you built your walls too high for them to reach their

branches over.

when the autumn comes and you can focus again on the crunch of the leaves under your shoes, you’ll remember, maybe, and see again.

the loneliness of broken trees in winter, or the summer sun pines for those it’s blinded by levi hatle is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

we met on the subway
la la la
la la la
la la la
la
la.

she ended on the interstate
always afraid of being late
i guess she figured that way
she’d always be on time.

so i stand here at the world’s end
and wonder if she’ll see me again
maybe when we end this time
she’ll let me call her mine.

overtones ⚪
salt mine.

a complicated pair and musings on their brief separation by levi hatle is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

she apologizes for the cliche
acknowledges the crutch
accentuates the free way
and keeps a loose-held clutch
on words.

so she doesn’t see, you see, what we see
when silly little drawings
accompanied
by a few silly little words
with tinny little voices
begging to be–

imagination: paraplegic by levi hatle is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

he knows the word is sterile, but to him
it’s bittersweet, a scent he would associate with
almonds, or maybe mrs yamagashi’s baking–
not the finished result on the table, but the
flour and the raw ingredients, her apron still dusty
when he came home at exactly five fifteen. the hospital
was a bad time, but he was grateful anyway, because
that time, at least, he got to say goodbye.

he wasn’t awake when she left, either, but
he and the machines were the first to know.

overtones ⚪
continuation of mr yamagashi set
totally not sad house scenes (i’m lying)

the faithful continued working of mr yamagashi and the machines by Levi Hatle is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

could tell me where i’m going, mister?

a woman’s body: casing for a small girl singing for her supper by levi hatle is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

another scream, another day
another bad decision made
another bed lonely again
to face the coming dawn
will it never change?

perhaps, and not. keep
a smiling face on, even
just a smirk, if need be.
never
let the bastards get you down.

the clock is ticking for you now
they might be coming for you, how
will they find you?

overtones ⚪
witch-hunts and the warlocks left behind.

a question put to a witch’s warlock by levi hatle is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.