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Literature Text
If I could contain the universe
in an hour, in a minute, in a room,
I’d fit it with mirrors, drape it in satin, drown it in champagne,
stuff it in pink crinoline, and set it up spinning.
Ours is a dizzy waltz of missed signals and broken dreams.
All those afternoons strutting about an eight-hundred-thread-count queen,
holding court with flushed cheeks and sweaty palms.
“Courtesy please. Do not disturb.”
Oh, but who am I now, my darling?
An unwelcome guest, stealing away your sunset.
With no heart to call my own,
I’ve no use for your bedroom eyes or your nesting sighs
still echoing in the hollow thickets of my soul.
I hate to think of you there, tangled and bleeding,
a universe all your own.
in an hour, in a minute, in a room,
I’d fit it with mirrors, drape it in satin, drown it in champagne,
stuff it in pink crinoline, and set it up spinning.
Ours is a dizzy waltz of missed signals and broken dreams.
All those afternoons strutting about an eight-hundred-thread-count queen,
holding court with flushed cheeks and sweaty palms.
“Courtesy please. Do not disturb.”
Oh, but who am I now, my darling?
An unwelcome guest, stealing away your sunset.
With no heart to call my own,
I’ve no use for your bedroom eyes or your nesting sighs
still echoing in the hollow thickets of my soul.
I hate to think of you there, tangled and bleeding,
a universe all your own.
Literature
blackbird
.
i.
i like to count your ribs when you're not looking.
the hollow dips, the gentle pressure they put on your skin.
you're underweight by a few ticks of the scale,
but,
so am i.
ii.
we both hate taking our medicine.
so my hands shake and your lungs ache,
but we just laugh it off because we're young and we have forever.
right?
iii.
you like different books.
that's okay.
iv.
we rip the pages out of our memoirs and cry on your bedspre
Literature
Ours
Your eyes
glimmering like gold,
and I,
with lips of fire,
issue
an eternal vow
unto
your waiting heart:
My soul for yours.
The sunrise
has finally wrought
our fate,
your love,
budding like a lotus,
is mine
if your fingers
can but find
their place within my own.
Take the leap,
fall
to where only I
may catch
and you shall discover
the infinity
of true devotion
in
the unbound shape
of us.
Literature
A fair fever.
there is a mermaid inside of me
with a handful of paint and a canvas heart
standing at the edge of the sea
where the dandelions grow;
if i stutter, i'm sorry --
anything tangible can be destroyed, and
i don't want to lose my muchness to
sunlight through an open window.
(a private jargon)
"walk on your own, into the sun,
as your spine arcs back like lightning,
a strong and broken man,
king of the horse-flies, for
soon there will only be stolen tombstones,
december skies in belgrade
and a forest in california, somewhere."
Suggested Collections
OK GOTTA WATCH SLEEPY HOLLOW NOW.
Here's the accompanying poem: Intermission
© 2013 - 2024 Jazeki
Comments8
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This was a great read >v< ty for sharing!