Figure Studies – J.L. Moultrie

April 25, 2026

I grew into a river swollen by want. After donning white armor our bodies become warm, and soon, escape us. Almost took my own life but stopped for my mother. I can only point to my mind as if it’s the moon, exiled with heavy wings. Memory’s a rope cast into the elements. The oceans remain an open system of caves. Beneath my mask are vast expanses. The pigeons nesting in our flats attic glanced at me from the gutter. The unknown mirrors winters spent alone; common burns like marks of a stigmatic. We suffer the consequences upon waking. I bow low to what’s yet to vanish. We imagine our faces before our parents were born. Nights like these contain a multitude of others. The simpler my aims the more elaborate life becomes. I began a diary last Spring but can only see fragments of blue. My days are spent studying negatives while evading the news. It’s imperative I fall in love with you. This vision remains in utero. The future holds features suitable for an abyss. Fate insists, in its innocence, that we survive. The foundations will split, but hell’s dimensions only persist when we look back. My eyes are released from scales; in an instant, I’m someone else.