Water Trine Things
@watersignbot.bsky.social
a bot for phrases from other poems, books, songs, etc. that make me lose my mind :-) you can dm me for questions/sources! posts every hour (moved over from twitter)
Think about the people you haven’t seen in real life during this pandemic. Do you have them committed to memory? Can you paint them? Sculpt them? Draw them?
November 13, 2025 at 3:36 PM
Think about the people you haven’t seen in real life during this pandemic. Do you have them committed to memory? Can you paint them? Sculpt them? Draw them?
Do you regret coming after me? Did I waste your time? Do you not like what you see? Me, stripped bare, begging you to be gentle with me?
November 13, 2025 at 2:34 PM
Do you regret coming after me? Did I waste your time? Do you not like what you see? Me, stripped bare, begging you to be gentle with me?
But his aloofness, his aloneness, is the truth of his own nature. He retains that nature, brings it among us unchanged. He brings us the gift of his indestructible solitude.
November 13, 2025 at 1:31 PM
But his aloofness, his aloneness, is the truth of his own nature. He retains that nature, brings it among us unchanged. He brings us the gift of his indestructible solitude.
Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined.
November 13, 2025 at 12:29 PM
Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined.
time is the illness we remedy by
imaging the yet unlived
a tremor of sorcery we
give one another to
soften panic in
the seam
imaging the yet unlived
a tremor of sorcery we
give one another to
soften panic in
the seam
November 13, 2025 at 11:26 AM
time is the illness we remedy by
imaging the yet unlived
a tremor of sorcery we
give one another to
soften panic in
the seam
imaging the yet unlived
a tremor of sorcery we
give one another to
soften panic in
the seam
Just like the life
In which I'm forever a child looking out my
window at the night sky
Thinking one day I'll touch the world with
bare hands.
In which I'm forever a child looking out my
window at the night sky
Thinking one day I'll touch the world with
bare hands.
November 13, 2025 at 10:25 AM
Just like the life
In which I'm forever a child looking out my
window at the night sky
Thinking one day I'll touch the world with
bare hands.
In which I'm forever a child looking out my
window at the night sky
Thinking one day I'll touch the world with
bare hands.
Baby, we've spent some time together
But I know, I should be cautious
But when I'm around you
I can hardly breathe or speak
I thought you should know.
But I know, I should be cautious
But when I'm around you
I can hardly breathe or speak
I thought you should know.
November 13, 2025 at 9:21 AM
Baby, we've spent some time together
But I know, I should be cautious
But when I'm around you
I can hardly breathe or speak
I thought you should know.
But I know, I should be cautious
But when I'm around you
I can hardly breathe or speak
I thought you should know.
Heat lightning, watch it from my doorstep / Sleeping eyelid of the sky flutters in a dream / Well, I've held on, but feel a storm approaching
November 13, 2025 at 8:20 AM
Heat lightning, watch it from my doorstep / Sleeping eyelid of the sky flutters in a dream / Well, I've held on, but feel a storm approaching
Your Midas touch on the Chevy door
November flush and your flannel cure
''This dorm was once a madhouse''
I made a joke, ''Well, it's made for me''.
November flush and your flannel cure
''This dorm was once a madhouse''
I made a joke, ''Well, it's made for me''.
November 13, 2025 at 7:15 AM
Your Midas touch on the Chevy door
November flush and your flannel cure
''This dorm was once a madhouse''
I made a joke, ''Well, it's made for me''.
November flush and your flannel cure
''This dorm was once a madhouse''
I made a joke, ''Well, it's made for me''.
I rarely think about what I once was – have you ever thought about what you will soon become?
November 13, 2025 at 6:11 AM
I rarely think about what I once was – have you ever thought about what you will soon become?
Curving arms, encircling a world of love,
You! Stirring the depths of passionate desire!
You! Stirring the depths of passionate desire!
November 13, 2025 at 5:09 AM
Curving arms, encircling a world of love,
You! Stirring the depths of passionate desire!
You! Stirring the depths of passionate desire!
I know we're strangers, so it's okay, you don't have to say it / Strange is better anyways and I think that we can make it
November 13, 2025 at 4:04 AM
I know we're strangers, so it's okay, you don't have to say it / Strange is better anyways and I think that we can make it
She peels an orange, separates it in perfect halves, and gives one of them to me. If I could wear it like a friendship bracelet, I would. Instead I swallow it section by section and tell myself it means even more this way.
November 13, 2025 at 2:57 AM
She peels an orange, separates it in perfect halves, and gives one of them to me. If I could wear it like a friendship bracelet, I would. Instead I swallow it section by section and tell myself it means even more this way.
I had been wounded was another
country’s fugitive dawn.
country’s fugitive dawn.
November 13, 2025 at 1:56 AM
I had been wounded was another
country’s fugitive dawn.
country’s fugitive dawn.
In these dreams it’s always you:
the boy in the sweatshirt,
the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me
from jumping off the bridge.
Oh, the things we invent when we are scared
and want to be rescued.
the boy in the sweatshirt,
the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me
from jumping off the bridge.
Oh, the things we invent when we are scared
and want to be rescued.
November 13, 2025 at 12:57 AM
In these dreams it’s always you:
the boy in the sweatshirt,
the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me
from jumping off the bridge.
Oh, the things we invent when we are scared
and want to be rescued.
the boy in the sweatshirt,
the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me
from jumping off the bridge.
Oh, the things we invent when we are scared
and want to be rescued.
on purpose, on purpose I am going to care about you
November 12, 2025 at 11:55 PM
on purpose, on purpose I am going to care about you
He’s jealous of the moon, because you look at it. He’s jealous of the sun, because it warms you. I feel you, even when I’m not feeling you. I talk to you when I’m not talking to you. I love you, even when I’m not loving you.
November 12, 2025 at 10:53 PM
He’s jealous of the moon, because you look at it. He’s jealous of the sun, because it warms you. I feel you, even when I’m not feeling you. I talk to you when I’m not talking to you. I love you, even when I’m not loving you.
Haven't they moved like rivers–
like glory, like light–
over the seven days of your body?
like glory, like light–
over the seven days of your body?
November 12, 2025 at 9:53 PM
Haven't they moved like rivers–
like glory, like light–
over the seven days of your body?
like glory, like light–
over the seven days of your body?
I have trouble saying that I am worthy of another’s affection no matter how wounded I am. I am. I am. I am. I am.
November 12, 2025 at 8:49 PM
I have trouble saying that I am worthy of another’s affection no matter how wounded I am. I am. I am. I am. I am.
Had she really thought I would not know him? I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.
November 12, 2025 at 7:46 PM
Had she really thought I would not know him? I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.
You take the first hand, then hip, with you through the dance, glide, until you find the body you abandoned // measurements ago.
November 12, 2025 at 6:42 PM
You take the first hand, then hip, with you through the dance, glide, until you find the body you abandoned // measurements ago.
No
You are complete, George
You are your own
We do not belong together.
You are complete, George
You are your own
We do not belong together.
November 12, 2025 at 5:42 PM
No
You are complete, George
You are your own
We do not belong together.
You are complete, George
You are your own
We do not belong together.
Let me call my anxiety, 'desire', then.
Let me call it, 'a garden'.
Let me call it, 'a garden'.
November 12, 2025 at 4:41 PM
Let me call my anxiety, 'desire', then.
Let me call it, 'a garden'.
Let me call it, 'a garden'.
after all
the lord cut you
here
to remind us where
he came
from
the lord cut you
here
to remind us where
he came
from
November 12, 2025 at 3:35 PM
after all
the lord cut you
here
to remind us where
he came
from
the lord cut you
here
to remind us where
he came
from
When Mojaves say the word for ‘tears’, we return to our word for ‘river’, as if our river were flowing from our eyes. ‘A great weeping’ is how you might translate it. Or ‘a river of grief’.
November 12, 2025 at 2:31 PM
When Mojaves say the word for ‘tears’, we return to our word for ‘river’, as if our river were flowing from our eyes. ‘A great weeping’ is how you might translate it. Or ‘a river of grief’.