silence curls in my palm

like a gun,

and my pen is bleeding scabs,

and I'm sitting 

in the stillness of her shadow,

eating fireflies to try to kill the light

so I can rest between the rays,

levitating memories 

into the void created

between her heartbeats,

here I will swallow

all of it,

and I will drink her breath

like a fish

until my ringing ears

hear more than static and steps,

and I feel the mortar 

crumble,

until there are no walls between us

and I split the skin of bricks

and they bleed out bloody dust 

and stand no more,

lying softly on the earth

like sunrise fallen,

like sand stained by our triumph,

and we will build

a castle upon the ruins. 

Ever since Christopher Robin went off to Vanderbilt in pursuit of an architectural law degree, the residents of the Hundred Acre Woods were constantly threatening and harassed within their beloved home.  Only three months after his departure, the woodland animals had begun to battle wildfire, pollution, and harassment from human "nature enthusiasts" seeking a selfie with miniature pig or a misplaced marsupial.  Over the years conditions became intolerable, and the woodland creatures sought to fight back.

Reports of a wild tiger and a bear wearing a tattered Harvard-crimson shirt vandalizing playgrounds and terrorizing school children spread across news outlets throughout the country.  The woodland creatures of the Hundred Acre Woods had successfully - albeit, temporarily - driven out all intrusive and provocative human life from the perimeter.  Reveling in their success, the animals celebrated noisily with huge barrels of honey-mead, tasty carrot-and-radish quiches, and scantily-clad foals who "knew how to horse around" according to their pimp stud.

The morning after the booze-induced orgy, the animals awoke to the sound of terribly large and frightening machinery.  The group elected the wisest and only literate member of the party, an old bespectacled owl, to survey whatever was occurring and report back.  The owl disappeared above the tops of the oak and birch trees after sunrise and did not return that night.

The woodland creatures began to greatly fear that whatever noises had transpired throughout the day would soon endanger their habitat and, more importantly, their lives.  The most charismatic of the group, the shirt-yielding bear, organized a defense routine involving sharpened stick shivs, repurposed gardening tools, and developing molotov cocktails in old honey pots.  Just as the tiger was teaching the group how to best utilize one's canine teeth, the owl clumsily collapsed in the trunk of a thick redwood, panting heavily.

The animals immediately abandoned their weapons and gathered around the owl, clamoring in anticipation.  His spectacles were shattered, a wing was violently clipped, and something blinked green and red on his left ankle.

The rabbit and miniature pig helped him to his feet, where he was able to catch his breath.  "*Gasp* the humans *hicc* they're abol-*wheeze*-abolishing the Hund-"

"Owl!  Speak coherently!" The donkey bucked impatiently.

"Condominiums!  They're making condominiums!"

~~~~~

The Hundred Acre Woods, by A. A. Milne

I am imagination

     blazing flashes of imaged light

     soul caught on fire

     silence in hush of day

     discreet gentle feet

I am imagination

     framing your love

     reaching for our yesterdays

     closed eyes seeking hope

     past unfolding into butterflies

I am imagination

     upside down reality

     daisies of your smile

     flight through winged sky

     garments of pink sand

I am imagination

     surreal dreams with no limits

     shadows of infinity clinging

     drops of clear water on tongue

     holding hands of summer hues

I am imagination

      wild with infatuation

     throbbing with need

     tasting the sweetness

     guided by pale moon

But are you just my imagination?

The heart is too throbby.

The kidney too tough.

The liver is disgusting.

Let's not get started on the pancreas.

But the brain...

The brain is most tender and delicious.

Giant plants surrounded me I was in an immense forest, I suppose I was the size of an ant, if you look closer to the plants every cell was a universe.I had no idea where I was, it felt like reality had shifted.Beyond the plants there was a purple sky, I climbed one of the plants and I began to see all my memories ones I had never seen before. I suddenly realized that this plant was of other universes and dimensions that had me in them, so many versions of reality. I slipped on some sort of fluorescent blue liquid, I was falling but instead of hitting the leaves I went through them. I went from universe to universe, they flashed before my eyes, it was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. Time felt accelerated and still at the same time. I fell to the ground and hit it with a silent squish as if the ground caressed me, like a trampoline. A being approached me, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, her hair flowed like a river and her eyes were brown with stars glittering in them. She smiled at me and said in a gentle voice “ You better wake up before you forget how to", I gasped awake and all at once the realization that I had been sleeping was clear.

Johan pushed himself up from the blood-spattered ground. He saw his friend flailing helplessly, trying to escape the terrible grip of the giant wood-scorpion. The pincers squeezed tighter, blood spurted from Gurnd's mouth as his ribs began to buckle. It was now or never. Johan, fueled by adrenaline, disregarded his own injuries and leapt to his feet. The beast's massive tail raised high into the air, it's venom-laden stinger pulsed in rhythm with Johan's heartbeat; fast and frantic. He was nearly within striking-distance when the scorpion plunged it's hideous barb down at Gurnd. Johan's sword flashed, crunching through exoskeleton and thick slime, severing the tail. He was too late; the stinger had hit it's mark and Gurnd was already dead before the beast disappeared into the forest. Never again would Johan laugh with his friend, never again would he walk that road, never again would he long for adventure.