Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

Home / ocean

It’s all owed to you. The carry and sacrifice and the frightening tear of nature that untethers life from your own, like planets spun from suns. You, that sun, that center around which we orbit, sing and dance. How you are loved. Don’t you know? Regardless of the way we drift, as if comets loosed […]

Read More

Trapped by the flood of circumstance and the ardor of impossibly attained lust, the net cast, the zeros and ones of outrageous fortune that cling to hearts literate in the great languages of binding, abiding, yearning, desiring. Rocky shores threaten shipwrecked delight and moonlight reveals skeletons awash in the salt of uncommon release, cracked ribcages […]

Read More

Cast from the simple joy of limitless embrace, she’s absent a lifeline to what’s come before. Their past was hunger and nervous voices, words left in the high static of satellite assistance and baud packets dropped, found, throttled and connected as drops of their torrid union sweat on the windows of neither’s home. The sea […]

Read More

We couldn’t nail the symmetry, not exactly anyone, but close enough to win at horseshoes, and the whole thing feels like a hand grenade gone off. My limbs remain intact, but the hole blown through my chest is evidence I didn’t survive the blast. It was close enough to kill me still, this decade’s march […]

Read More

Don’t it impress, that feisty tenacity of the sea’s spray? The salty corrosion of her mineral kiss on land and metal, eroding concrete and steel? She loves to seduce progress, beckoning it ever closer with calm nights alight with starshine and days reflecting sky and sun in the swim of glass pools. It edges closer […]

Read More

Red petals extend into night, air illuminated by industry. Steady hands failing to inherit the beauty of such nature honestly, though so tiny in comparison to the solid reach into cloud mist, angled precision slight with human success. Appreciated beauty at the answer of each inquiry, petals spread, flora inviting. Sinking reflection awards little, robbing […]

Read More

Sublunar

Carefree shores and vacationing hearts, the toil of yesterday tossed away for the freedom of shorter hours that spin away as unspooled thread might, skittering along the floor like stones over still waters. Breathe in air stinging with salt and pick up these lilting melodies of tides come and gone, the hymnals of lunar mourning.

Read More

To see what's what in the world of Santo

>> <<