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watching youi love watching you,
when your eyes are far away and the corners
of your mouth turn up slightly - smiling
at some old memory or private joke
and i, quietly looking down,
smile too; sharing in
your secret happiness
but always, something shakes you to awareness
and your eyes focus, looking around
to draw your paper closer. and i
break a little more in knowing
you cannot be happy for more than a moment,
eternally stuck in your far-away universe.
maybe you'll come down
and notice me someday?
to write for youi wanted to write a poem for you.
so i sat down,
quietly - pen in hand -
and wept. because i cannot
contain the ocean in a paragraph,
i can't shape your eyes
in a stanza. and even
if all the world's birds were singing,
it still would not compare
to the symphonies of your kiss;
and this makes me sad!
through wild and happy fields
i've ran, only to discover:
tears can be captured,
but love is always free.
just pretendingyou're just pretending
when you kiss me, and the
sky breathes softly down
on your eyelashes.
when you glance quickly to the side,
decide not to look me in the face.
i will never re-wear that
polka dot dress or wish
i was a street lamp - because
sea-salt stains are
extremely hard to wash out.
minutesI don't remember the minutes
the day you died.
All I can feel
is the phone, crashing
hitting the floor. The same phone
he always called me on -
breaking, as I broke.
in a house I can no longer see.
februarythe eternal Friday holidays,
suck in your winter breath and
give me a quiet springtime-
inside a warm car, in the echo of a kiss-
don't question the February longing in your hair.
LatreuophobiaI wash off sick-sweet orange lipstick in front of a mirror as dusty as gothic romances. It tastes like oblivion, that is to say, like nothing my tongue can detect.
The door opens with a creak no private restroom could emulate. Some chick with blue bobbed hair and smeared eyeliner. I looked like that once. Ten years ago.
Getting the beer out of my hair is harder. Some men just can't take it when I'd rather they not kiss my feet or call me an angel or-
“Dayum girl, you look like a goddess.”
I gulp, taste of acid.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More