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Guess I should've written it down
Long ago when it had entered my mind
It's  like all the ink bled right out
From the pen I've been ignoring for a while
Almost as if the words got tired of being tired
And walked away from this tunnel of a mind
They dutifully packed up their bags and left
Trudged on into the night
And try as I might now, to place that typewriter
The sounding of the keys sounds hollow
just like the clanging of fake jewellery maybe I've lost it, maybe I never had it
And finally has that realisation dawned
This is all just a rant anyway
I haven't slept properly in too **** long
He said,
"There is a reason
the trees grow so high,
the fruit just out of reach.
It is so man cannot touch,
man cannot take,
what they do not own,
what is not their's,
what is not to be stolen."
#growth #earth
leftover clementine peels
and apple cores
in the kitchen sink garbage disposal:

haven
for the rise
of the lord of the fruit flies.

this, my greatest adversary.

i lay vinegar and wine traps, and,
at various junctures,
lead spray sorties where they congregate
with all-purpose cleaner in hand ---
even swat at them
with my other free hand
like King Kong did helicopters,
whilst holding a screaming kicking Ann Darrow
in her small little nighty,

and i
watch,
haughtily  

as they fall
before mine
victorious feet.

and i beat my chest.

then i suddenly feel horribly conflicted
in the clutches of such a merciless slaughter.

they never
stood
a chance.
I'd like to know
the topography of your body;
every mountain range,
every valley.
I'd like to know you
with my eyes closed,
become familiar with every curve.
Use my fingertips to trace
mazes on your skin.
Use my lips to wander across places
undiscovered.
Lacking tangibility.
A sense associated with memory.
Scientifically proven to be attached to neurological stimulus.
But in its simpler form,
it reminds us of Sunday afternoons
and coffee stains.
It reminds us of the rain
and the sheets of your bed.
It can't be felt,
only recognized.
And like you,
it can soften in an inhale
and hurt in an exhale.
We are lying together, entwined
As you tell me about that one time
You fell in love with an  explorer.

You tell me about how you both lay side by side,
And with eyes wide, she pointed out to you her favorite constellations
As you marked your favorite constellations of freckles
On the wide expanse of her skin.

You tell me about the mountains you have traversed together;
You tell me your relationship was an uphill battle every step of the way-
But with hope for the future,
You endured.

And then one day,
She got tired of the constant uphill battle.
She got tired of waiting for shooting stars;
She got tired of you.

From then on, your heart was filled with hatred for
adrenaline junkies and explorers.

But love,
You, yourself, are an explorer
With huge hopes and dreams
And your heart on your sleeve.

I can see it in the way your eyes sparkle
Whenever there is a hint of adventure;
In the way you give your heart out freely,
Wishing that one of the places you yearn to settle down in
Accepts you with open arms.

(I still pray for the day
When you'll wish to settle here.

But for the time being,
I shall patiently wait for your arrival.)
sojourn of old extremities
into new space
pinkbloom ribbons and ropes

— The End —