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Foogle Jun 4
I look at her in the mirror
she becomes me
her silent mess
undoing

i remember you pointing to me in the rain
my clothes slowly thinning see through
i was in awe
eyeing your form
outlined in the glittery crystals of water
i kept myself
oblivious to my roots in the opposite side of the long story
I was the silent thunderstorm
You were the invisible fire
Foogle Jun 20
We were etched deep into settled sand,
waiting as slow marine snow rained upon us,
you and I stared up at the endless abyss with empty irises,
for who knew how long.

In autumn, a luminescent shadow descended upon us,
giant, overhead,
we eyed the beast, it’s magnificent beauty,
and suddenly, our two halves were met across the perfect body:
on the night of the whale fall.

Used to gnawing hunger; we shared,
******* from the same dead monster with empty stomachs,
I glimpsed you laughing, with shining blubber on your lips,
and there my heart was pierced silently with barnacle and shattered shell,
in the mystic forever darkness.

I implanted my hope and my roots into new rocks,
to view what I might see of our deepening story
- and in long nights I imagined you, swimming in light,
whilst I knew that in our deep black world
there could be no such thing.

I had hoped that you might stay to see our whale decay,
although you never did say
anything about her.

I scoured her sleek bare bones
where you picked at her husk with lazy teeth,
I found her secrets, and you grazed her surfaces;
silently eying brighter places.

I yearned for us to intertwine with her empty rib cage,
swaying in sync to the winds of the ocean,
yet the same breezes I danced to
only ever seemed to drift you down foreign currents.

I had hoped we might have love to tether us, but your wandering spirit
saw the faint moonlight of the shallows
and chased it,
unaware we were destined to stay
in this high pressure.

Once again, lying under slow falling marine snow,
I now wish we did not share
the same end;
as the mother whale
on the night of her whale fall.
Foogle Mar 14
the thought of other dimensions makes me
covered in blue for a second
paints me in slow motion
i can run; but they will run faster
they will know what i never did
we will both clash in the ways we are wiser
the one who stayed and the one who left
thinking of different paths untaken
Foogle Feb 12
beauty is
afterglow on a face you
        want to bridge the         gap        to
a rickety bridge that holds on by old poles
strings that tether to the
connected ground

beauty rises;
       in wings flying
            beauty is like the sun spreading
it reaches like
              writhing vines up to the
    newly sprinkled sky

beauty flies;
          blown by the high winds and
    it’s in the leaves that have fallen;
beauty is in giving life, love
      and beauty breeds in the
              silence of the resting

the silence of the lived

beauty sleeps
in the amber painting the clouds, the silver linings;
        new nights to live and to be
                                beauty is to know

to understand without words
for my bà nội

— The End —