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 Sep 2016 Mozalios
Crimsyy
For Hope
 Sep 2016 Mozalios
Crimsyy
I know you are lying there,
probably unconscious
of where you are,
I know you wanted to
find a backdoor to finally end
your journey to the stars,

But I want you to know,
you will one day be able to
breathe on your own,
one day, you will recognize
your beautiful body as
your beautiful home,

An overfilled vessel,
filled to the brim with
the complications of existing,
I know you are in pain,
but sweet Hope,
I know you'll smile again.
 Sep 2016 Mozalios
J
I tried to write a long piece
about missing you
still writing things about things we would do
the September fog wrapped me up like celafain
I tried to write a long piece
but my hands wouldn't stop shaking

I tried to write to you
and tell you how I've been
but a year later
and not much has happened
you moved on
I moved back
the city feels empty even with the world on my back

I tried to write a long piece
about liberation and hope
and how it gets better if you let it
but a year later,
and I still choke up

so I don't write anymore
I don't sleep anymore,
I don't look for love anymore
and that's something I have had to
learn to store away until the day
I stop missing you, stilll
I hate today, I hate myself,today is so hard
I will not nurture hate
Like a rotten seed in a lush forest
Tainting hallowed ground
Poisoning fruit, instead
I will taste forgiveness
Sweet and rich and I will let it
Consume me, knowing that
Nature herself does not know anger
Or anguish, and though I may hurt
The green of the woodland soul
Is the healing salve for all ailments
And after being ravaged by fire
I, too, can grow back whole.
His was like that of a sponge
As he swirled his warm, moist tongue inside of me.
Erasing the past,
And soaking up the present.
Making me whole again and ready for the new future.
It was like the great flood of the Biblical times;
Built up emotions like a valley charged with dynamites,
I exploded and the flood gates opened;
And he smiled at me,
"Your ******* are soaked, will you like to go another round."
I tried not to smile but with him,
It wasn't far-fetched.
He made my ebony-toned cheeks blush.
He slid back before I could muster up the courage to nod my head to say Yes because I didn't trust my tongue to loosen and veer towards speech anytime soon.
How he made my heart throb!
First attempt at Erotica inspired by Nonkululeko Anicia Khumalo
 Sep 2016 Mozalios
dani evelyn
keep the fan on all night. if only change were simple. your ******* have grown and keep catching your eye in the mirror, a reflection of a girl you have yet to know. you have a boyfriend in buffalo, but here, there is a different boy with shaggy hair and glasses who drives you home at 1:30 in the morning and sings along with you to the radio. he is careful — even better, he’s convenient, and convenience is everything when being desired is what helps you see that girl in the mirror a little clearer in the morning. the sky is pink and nothing makes sense except how you feel right now, in this moment — like the earth itself is breathing in, swelling with air, reaching up, up, up and lifting you with it.

the boy in buffalo plays you jazz records on vinyl and takes your hand on crowded city streets and writes you love letters, but when you sit next to him in a church pew you can’t even raise your eyes to the crucifix. the clock is ticking, and you’re unsure, you’re scared. you steal away into the passenger seat of the boy with the glasses and make him turn up the radio so loud you forget about your own heartbeat. who do you want between your legs, and who do you want holding your hand? to both of them you could just be a beautiful idea of a girl, a long list of characteristics which they each want you to be but which do not add up to the sum of who you are. still, they both look at you from time to time as if they were hungry for an indescribable something that can only be found in the space behind your eyes.

it’s a summer night, you’ve kept the fan on, and everything is possible. you have rescued yourself enough times to know that you are never unrescuable, even though sometimes just picking your body up from the floor is a herculean feat. the sky is still pink and everything is balancing on the point of a knife but you feel your heart like a fist in your chest and you know that you’re going to keep waking up in the morning and that that alone is enough. the girl in the mirror looks like less of a stranger than ever before, the image sharpening ever so slowly. maybe change is only simple when we stop looking back at the people we used to be.
 Sep 2016 Mozalios
Crimsyy
Graceful
 Sep 2016 Mozalios
Crimsyy
The sequel to my other poem "Lovely"**

Nothing else resonates more
than being told about
your loveliness,
nothing else resonates more
than the assurance that you
are absolutely graceful,
and that the grass you walk on
thinks you are a sight to behold.

And every seed that
you'll touch
will grow and transform
from the dust,
and your lungs will
earn back your trust,
and you'll believe in grace again.

I don't want to leave
for a temporary feeling,
but I don't want to stare
at a permanently black ceiling,
I strive to see the stars
but the dark's outshined
them all tonight;
has the dark touched you tonight?
 Sep 2016 Mozalios
Ma Cherie
Autumn comes in like a thief
loitering 'till the
Last Summer Wind
comes
Fall has begun
loading a full metal jacket
encased, guilded
in cupronickel & lead

eager to break the will of lively
verdant vistas down
returning their beautiful souls
and gentle spirits
back to hallowed ground
drifting, floating...
quoting, noting
poetic words
unheard
trying to veer, deviate for  
shared moments...
off without a sound.

Landing over paths
blowing into heaps
swept by wild winds
from  angelic wings
drying, dying
I hear them sighing

Hoping children
will jump in them
smelling the bittersweet of yesterday
raked and burned
they are returned

Sitting in gutters and streams
even in death they dream
in molting piles
all the while
these fading embers...
come September
again remember
they stay within us  
burning beauty
until ...
valuable things are given
life again...
come springtime.

Cherie Nolan © 2016
For my kitty Spanky, who is dying...
So today seems to have some of that last wind.
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