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My fingers crawl to
the loneliest place when I
want and miss you most.

-m.b
 Feb 2019 Candlewood
Baylee Kaye
his eyes
they’re calling me
lost in a grey-blue sea
pray they tell no lies

i fall
before him on my knees
begging pretty please
answer my call

loving you
every single day
when you throw your belt away
is all I do

the sound
of the buckle on the floor
makes me wish for more
of this love so profound

I know
you’ll waste no time
in this paradigm
to set our tempo
d.c.
 Feb 2019 Candlewood
Baylee Kaye
you unravel me,
and i end up calling you master,
at the end of the night.
tell me what to do, how to behave.
touch me here, there, right there.
I give you permission to lose it.
you can do anything that you want to do,
to me.
d.c.
 Feb 2019 Candlewood
adriana
i want you to ruin my life
and even though i know it's wrong
i want you to make it all right
[tongue taking taken prayer]

come worship in my temple.
your tongue gowned by silence,
thy teasing vibrations disperse my slack,
exchanging it for a rigidity that is even softer, looser,
an improvement possibility impossibly incomprehensible

the noises of freedom from anonymity is thy silenced tongue
unleashed, teasing, speaking tongues unrelenting and unremitting, tongues unforgotten for they never were
learned, and incapable of being self-taught

my pleasure sprouts mushrooms in thy loamy foam,
thy rainfall nourishment, seed plant growing life morning borne,
thy tricked up sonnets played within my hearts harp,
tunes never known but coming from the land of plenty,
my new promised land

teach me where the apostrophe goes, the comma and
why the question mark is curved and dotted like my body,
why we need punctuation to separate the first from the next

trees weep as if every dry rain petal is instantly imbibed,
wanting more for my swollen by thy ministrations,
I cry out
my ice storm, my thunder, embalm me within the
electric spreading in my veins shocking steady constant

thy name thy name I beg to give thee a name
to understand what has befallen me


you can call me by my favorite of
all my seventy two,^
your first baby squeals and
even now in human manufactured agreed upon symbols
(words),
every utterance a prayer heard and answered

my name is a heated and unbroken
hallelujah,
I am thy god, and you, darling you,
my beloved
^https://www.chabad.org/kabbalah/article_cdo/aid/1388270/jewish/72-Names-of-G-d.htm
 Jan 2019 Candlewood
Sandoval
Broken
 Jan 2019 Candlewood
Sandoval
I was not born a

poet.

I was broken into

one.


*Sandoval
 Jan 2019 Candlewood
blackbiird
all she wanted was a sign that
life had not forgotten her
But all she had were the shackles
of her demons resting on her
pillow as she slept.
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