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Eli Jul 2022
Dancing amongst the dandelions,
my hands placed at your waist and
yours draped around my neck.
us? I keep imagining,
us, when I kissed you,
on your lip the way you liked,
us, when we swayed,
with everyone watching.
Then, there, I want it, again, now,
because baby, the universe dims,
galaxies contract, and life loses
all its pleasure when compared to you.
I want it.
Eli Jun 2022
Can you see what I’m listening to?
I’m listening to it, for you.
You live far enough that I can’t
touch you, kiss you, share
your coffee mugs and straddle you.
I’d come if I could, like I did last night,
your whispers raw, cracking into
choked giggles, and I join in.
You could be mine, I could
be yours, but not with all this
******* distance.
I like your laugh, I like your eyes,
I like your neck, I like your hands,
I like you, ****, I love you.
I love you! You don’t know that.
It’s fine.
End scene. Goodbye, goodbye.
Eli May 2021
I quietened the couple next door,
so you could sleep.
I swallowed the crackling fire,
so you could sleep.
I made the bed and
fluffed the pillows,
so you could sleep –
after burying the bodies
of the dogs who no longer yap
or the children who
no longer scream.
I absorbed the night-time freeze
and the searing warmth
so you could sleep.
And you kept sleeping.
Eli Jan 2021
                           It’s 1987.                              
         She’s smiling at the waves cascading,
        looking out at a world that didn’t exist.
In the emollient, rosemary morn’s glow                
             pregnant with prickly pear scents
           a cherry-pickled dress crashed into the foam
      and up bobbed a nest of blonde.                  
             Kissed by the wind; nourished by the sea,
                   I watched my sweetheart flee.
might delete later.
Eli Dec 2020
I start each day
waiting for it to end.
A sad monostich: Life paired with depression is overwhelming. Sometimes, I don't think I have enough fight left in me to handle it x a recovering pessimist
Eli Nov 2020
Her fingers prance around
        the bloodied strings.
    She keeps a grin plastered on her face;
the moist in her eyes gives her away.
      The air vibrates when she releases her voice –
                                              angelic whispers
  with tales of underlying suicide.
           He looked at the sky
                      and its chocolate shade;
spun around her playing, and blinked away tears.
                Death didn’t cry
    but staring in her lifeless eyes
                            made him feel
     such sadness he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Death enamours me.
Eli Nov 2020
Ink stains the flakes
of your skin;
it protrudes from your veins
and caresses my fingertips
as blue morphs into black,
like the white of stars
in an apathetic sky.
The scent of manuscripts crowds your armour.
I hold you close to my *****
and read you like poetry;
because I am a poet
starved of words
that breathe on your body.
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