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 Mar 2016 Zac Walter
Ezra
Our heartbeats thump in stereo
Building up romantic tension
The airwaves are taut, ready to crash
Ready to snap

The speakers get louder
One side overpowers the other
The volume switch doesn't modulate
Our heartbeats grow irregular

We are beating
inexorably
in mono
 Jan 2016 Zac Walter
Oscar Wilde
Seven stars in the still water,
And seven in the sky;
Seven sins on the King’s daughter,
Deep in her soul to lie.

Red roses are at her feet,
(Roses are red in her red-gold hair)
And O where her ***** and girdle meet
Red roses are hidden there.

Fair is the knight who lieth slain
Amid the rush and reed,
See the lean fishes that are fain
Upon dead men to feed.

Sweet is the page that lieth there,
(Cloth of gold is goodly prey,)
See the black ravens in the air,
Black, O black as the night are they.

What do they there so stark and dead?
(There is blood upon her hand)
Why are the lilies flecked with red?
(There is blood on the river sand.)

There are two that ride from the south and east,
And two from the north and west,
For the black raven a goodly feast,
For the King’s daughter rest.

There is one man who loves her true,
(Red, O red, is the stain of gore!)
He hath duggen a grave by the darksome yew,
(One grave will do for four.)

No moon in the still heaven,
In the black water none,
The sins on her soul are seven,
The sin upon his is one.
 Dec 2015 Zac Walter
Mote
Love Poem
 Dec 2015 Zac Walter
Mote
Nothing is mine. Well, maybe my car. My house. You
are not mine, and that is a squid in the chest kind of
squirming lovesickness. My self has decomposed so
seriously that I have replaced all of my organs with
sea life. That is difficult when you are thousands of miles
from the sea, but I made it happen, and yes, you can see
them with a flashlight, putting on their own dramas.
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