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Isabine Mar 2020
How have you been, without me?
I watch you when everything else becomes tiresome,
when all the gold seems like guilt,
when all the glitter is on the ground,
when there is nothing else to see,
I watch you miss me.
Isabine May 2020
I think about you when it rains...
running in joy—
toward our farthest fences
because we live—
to breathe in the smell of wet earth
and feel the rain kiss our faces
Isabine May 2020
I’m liquorice
The classic kind
Dark and bold
Lingering but not loquacious
Biting but not bitter
Sugared but never saccharine
A half-forgotten flavor
You may not like me as I am
After all
I’m an acquired taste
Isabine Apr 2020
If this was a book, I would guess the end
before it came
I would know the villains from the heroes
—Judging from mustachios with a penchant for being twirled
—Judging from gleaming armor and soulful eyes
I wouldn't have to wonder at the meaning
or fight for it
I could say, 'I knew that would happen'
Chekhov's gun would be used every time
Everything would be impossibly simple and neat
all the loose ends would be tied in pretty bows
all the questions answered with trite wisdom
And I wouldn't be left,
wondering
at the end
I would simply fade
to the white emptiness
of an unwritten page
If life was a book...
Isabine Apr 2020
I
forged, framed, formed  
an ache to be caressed
embraced
fulgent or blazing
even if
I
must die
The leftover language of a poem that formed its own kind of poem.
Isabine Aug 2020
What colors are growing around us,
In the space between our breaths?

heavy wings don't carry
hushed whispers scream
night ticks on forever
like falling in a dream

What colors are growing around us,
In the empty space between our breaths?
Isabine Apr 2020
We call it Good
Victory in being vanquished
Daylight in darkness
Bearing a cross

Triumph in a tomb
Three days
And death is doomed
Passing like a night
To laughing day
On Good Friday, people of faith, whatever their religion might be, are uniting together in spirit to fast and pray for relief from the COVID-19 pandemic.
Isabine May 2020
I open my mouth

like a cherished cherry

violent and vivid vermilion

Words like a lovely lemon

acerbic and acidic arts

They fly

Loud enough —

to crack or cleave

curse or cut

****** battlefield

of my verbal violence

left lingering

I always open my mouth

and let them OUT
Isabine Apr 2020
Nothing resists forever
Nothing outlasts time
but
Our hearts thump
With the manifest certainty of
A graveyard’s slow march over an empty field
Passed a graveyard today, and I thought of how it keeps moving, like a rising tide along the shore, into the next open field.
Isabine Apr 2020
Fear, you floating specter,
so hellishly real,
Greatest among the greats,
I held you at bay all day, all week, all the long months now
shoved aside during breakfast and at goodnights
But looming now, like a—Void
We meet here
And you kiss my eyes open
And you rock me awake
And you tenderly rip the heart from my Breath—
Thoughts that keep me up at night...
Isabine Apr 2020
Our pentarchy has fallen, and
a monarchy sits, lonely, in its place
We was always five
We is now I
Us is me
Scepter and Crown
Laurels and Claymore
I the Judge
I the Jester
I the Confessor
I the Standard Bearer
I the Knight
You—deserters every One
Before, we ruled together
Queens, we all,
In a kingdom without Kings
Isabine Jun 2020
it was just You and me,
by the bathroom sink,
curled up against the pain—
A long night.
Isabine Apr 2020
I
wait here alone,
in breathless nothing.
If you tap me,
I’ll shiver like lightning,
or melt like daylight,
or implode like a star,
consumed by the weight of my own gravity.
I am not formed to be caressed,
but would die,
just to be touched,
for a blazing instant,
by you
Isabine Apr 2020
I can
bear
it
I can
One more moment
I can
bear
it
I can
Isabine Jul 2020
My shadows will eat you
One grey day, a nefarious
Nibble
One decimated dream, a brutish
Bite
One more night by the window, a gargantuan
Gulp
One more always regret, a slow and sealing
Slurp
My shadows, they ate you up
One golden drop at a
Time
Isabine Apr 2020
No more sorrow
No more holes
No more broken things—
like souls

No more chains
No more rust
No more death—
that turns to dust

No more pain
No more fear
No more shame—
with hidden tears

He came
He came
He came
Isabine Apr 2020
What could I do to push you away?
What would you do, if I hurt you?
Deeply
How could I shock you—with me?
How would it feel to be thrown away?
Again
How could I melt your smile?
How could I make you hate me?
Forever
Why do these thoughts keep blooming?
How come I can't believe anything lasts?
At all

— The End —