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kara-lee-cook
Weeping Cascades of redeeming droplets, my soul experienced resurgence and cure. At once, poignant and lachrymose episodes occurred, unceasing. Like a newborn’s first burning breath, they seared though giving life and vitality So I reached, a rosebud, eager to drink morning dew and let the affecting liquid wash over me, replenishing my spirit.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
Cascades
Between r.e.m and dawn I heard it. Before blue awoke black and sent yellow out to play Beneath shadow gray I felt it. Sounds of a lover’s touch caressed me and I held them close In purple candle light I remembered. Before black tucked in blue and the northern night-light burned And then I knew. It was a lie.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
Whisper
During the night-morning hours, as sun and moon exchange domains They stand facing each other, infinite space between them. Those two in the same room, the same two who catch then throw daggerous words, bleeding from their impact. Crashing silences belie years worth of artillery and aberrations of emotion camouflage ever constant love waiting patiently in the background. Becoming a reluctant referee, exhaustion pulls the blanket over hurt and anger. Apologies arrive to take down barbed-wire fences around the heart. Kisses, the psychological band-aids, provide comfort for the scrapes on their souls. Feeling, then knowing, that one cannot survive without the other, they acquiesce; the two who might be named night and day.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
Night and Day
Champagne flavored rain Kaleidoscope skies Carnival days December lights Saturday dreams Magical moons Rainbow melodies Memories of you.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:17 PM UTC
Keepsakes
If your heart raged Like a black tempest on an endless blue sea If your blood ran Like fiery lava down ancient rock If your hands reached out to touch And grasped only colorless clouds If your breath pulled in and out Like gentle breezes over jagged rocks If your soul knew no limit to any emotion… Then you would know how it feels To be in love with you
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC
If ... Then
She believes in picket fences and two-story castles in geometric hedges and manicured lawns She relies on window blinds and the convenient camera that remains slightly out of focus She spends her days applying adhesive to china pieces and polishing away revealing cracks She spends her nights nurturing splinted dreams and convalescing hopes So when he says "I love you, it will never happen again" She believes
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
Circle
Crystal souls cry condemnatory tears bitter in the sagacity of their forfeiture; The investigation exposes pink blush, red life, and violet neglect rendering transparent understanding Accomplices in the homicide of abducted youth.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
Innocide
They sat in his closet, His shoes. In the comfortable dark. They seemed like him; Well worn, and content. I looked them over Believing they were homelike, Believing they were soft, Unlike the hard soles I wear; The small and binding ones That sometimes give blisters, Making me feel that his shoes Would be much nicer to wear. "Try them", he said, And he handed them to me; So I put them on. And they didn't seem so bad. "Walk in them", he then said. And once I'd walked a mile, or so, I felt the pebbles that had migrated into the tears that I hadn't seen before, I felt the roughness of the tread, already exhausted from endless journeys; I bent to disentangle the laces, frayed from having been tied, and retied. My feet hurt. I put on my own shoes. They felt different. They suited me more; with new-found room to grow.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
Shoes
Her antique brush Lays silent on the vanity Silver winding through white In an intricate maze Lincoln’s copper disk Sits alone on the roll-top desk, Retired from the morning toss On the tight blue bed sheets The oak rocking chair, a lonely wooden statue And at the foot of the bed, The cedar hope chest rests, empty.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Her Antique Brush
What dreams do you hold deep inside, Guarded by golden silence? What worlds await behind those eyes, On the edge of lavender twilight? Tell me what things you've seen Which visions came surrounded in sweet sleep; What fears have flowed out from the dark, And rolled quietly down your cheek? Give me your hand and whisper to me The things you wonder about What hopes might come into the light; Those wishes locked away in doubt Take the heart I've offered you, the one that is my own, Unlock the secrets of a soul far too long alone Then dare to trust at any cost and search the universe You’ll find not one, who has loved without pain, Yet … all realize love’s worth.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
Love’s Truth