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sr-devaste
after they send the chapters to bed the beginning and end slip into each other plotless with heat. sweating syntax one word lying next to another in beds of metaphor they make love like similes and dream only in poems.
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Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 1:26 AM UTC
Where Prose Goes at Night
death hold no triumphs absolute and naked do not promise me forever.
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Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 1:16 AM UTC
It Waits For Me
The forever I was promised is hidden under my bed the cleanest secret I’ve ever kept. and I never look, afraid I’ll see monsters of empty dust instead.
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Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 1:11 AM UTC
Invisible Eternity
The thin places of half transparent sheets, are braided between my fingers and toes. Waking up where daylight and dreams meet, then with soft sighs, rolls over and goes. I hear the warm whisper of night mutter, “Here sweetness is spun to never break.” But all fractal universes flutter as eyelashes wing upwards awake. I must forget how the slants of light were, sharpness makes silly the beautiful blur.
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Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 11:53 PM UTC
Sunrise Sonnet
There is a sunset on expansive lake. Its lip of waves soft with ripples, trembles, eyes shed tears of falling stars and still ache, for something other than what assembles. Such crowds. Acnes of campfires erupt, on the blank faces of bald dunes, still preserve. Beach's eternity makes the moment abrupt. sand through summer fingers cannot conserve. Oh sun, ease our smallness before the night, gild inevitability with light.
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Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 12:06 AM UTC
A Sunset Sonnet
you have desperations of joy that you walk on short leashes happiness has sharp teeth. and mercury eyes. collar tugging back adam’s apple bobbing of rabid throat. Look up, beast, look up, frightened brief fires. when balloons bloom they pop most times but when they don't they slip soul-less to skies away.
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Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 12:29 AM UTC
i have a garden of balloons
when my bike breaks a shirtless boy offers to fix it and we kneel bare-kneed on old sidewalk peering through grease and stuck gears until I turn away as if he is a night-time I might stub my toe on.
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Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 8:40 PM UTC
Shaman Boy
to middle of lake The burn swim where echoes breed, and return to die The quick dive to humid underwaters of held breath and silence.
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Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 8:37 PM UTC
Across The Lake Swim
In summer dunes slopes to midnight edges of lake we press our bodies to the sand roots searching for sun hidden underground.
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Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 8:35 PM UTC
Sanding
White linen and naked lightbulbs there is sand in the sheets. there are children on the porch there are napkins folded like sleeping birds. until the dinner bell.
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Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 8:34 PM UTC
Mayfly Evening