Heroin Hypnagogia | Zoe Gold

vined wisteria bloom in memory’s amber 

‘fore or since the savagery of empty gestures in sparse rooms 

no.. 

you know you went 

down to get

to the shadow sublation to the 

crack’d diamond darkly glowing

within that crimson rivulet your sacred heart forfend 

thus

take heed the rugged trespass of hours..

black snow drift as throbbing river

doorway eyes linger like breath 

in furtive stairwell creaks the hallway candle's last lingering

in 

spiritus mundi primo papi

eucharist in dusty light

in vitro toxica in glassine shimmer tato bien

two-bag gnosis

unyielding arrow, pierce the sinewed sky with 

soft-wing'd Grace 

to still the night's offhanded sorrow

take heed the penumbra scythe of time

for to see this jagged heart and its travails

zoe gold, a fair semblance of linguistics major in her ashen youth, has seen action as a pornstar, nyc-area escort, reasonably recovering heroin addict and noise-guitar pot-stirrer, passing sufficiently through the Lacanian highway's twilight terrain to nearly wrap up her tell-all, coming soon to an online bodega near you. It/That/Hey You. pees in corners. Sapphic, soft & strident by turn. constantly asking her neighbors, If dear Deleuze didn't exist, how would our pepsi generation engender its current musings? xo