Celeste Jackson

An aspiring writer and poet currently living on the East Coast with her husband and two rowdy dogs. More work can be found on allpoetry.com, thebluenib.com, and in the poetry anthology "Circular Whispers." Updates on insta @teyanaceleste 

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a month ago
You're a pale sliver in the night now, a wavering line of moonlight and stardust, lingering in glassy fragments atop the rumpled surface of my old comforter. I knew you once, dark and lively, with fre...
a month ago
He was a walking river, with muddy bank flesh and rain sluicing into sediment eyes Black pupils sloshing, the puddles left by a late summer storm too warm. The bends of him were narrow and hardly hold...
Suburban Muse
a month ago
I lose you in the rain, freckles connecting in wet dot puzzles, and clothes soaking, tame thing that you were, locked in fabric and worry, turning fey This is the you I spot in the woods, wild Drus sl...
Nightly Ritual
a month ago
Night tore the dress off of Day, and when Dusk ducked below the mountain curves of her horizon, I watched the stars burst from between her lilting hips. Seams slipped into wet shadows and white clouds...
The Fire
a month ago
Do you remember when we watched the farmhouse burn? its old tan paint sluicing in dark crumbles to browning grass, peeling up and away like skin from bone and muscle, torn from the boards beneath and ...
I Won't Say it if You Don't
a month ago
Goodbye is the foulest word I've ever tasted. It's chipped bark crumble on my tongue leaves the organ stiff and bleeding, the ashy paste of sentences I never lent life coating my teeth, and eating awa...