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So it started simple.
You held on, gave me words and painted pictures.
The tip of your tongue held words, mountains rising and rivers running.
The way your eyes suddenly dim, the cracks show. They're deeper and each day they carve their way closer to your core.
Your hidden starlight wards away hurt, only you don't let it seep into you; to help and guide you.
When you take your steps with confidence, your hips sway and that familiar smile. The strength shining through and shrouding your yearnings and weaknesses.
When you walk I beam, my thoughts wrapping around my confidence in you.
The pillar you represent, a sword to fight off loss and hurt.
You are light, intertwined with my darkness.
The swirling fear dissipating with each word you say, like a prayer.
You stand and fall, but you always fight.
I was a child.
I wasted three years on you.
I'm still not sure if I regret it.
Am I bad?
Am I sick?
Am I crazy?
Because I still want to feel your lips.
Just one last time.
I might not feel anything.
I wonder if you still remember how to ignite my fire.
Would my lips remember the warmth of your lips?
Would I still remember how our tongues sync?
Just one last time, to remember what it felt like.
To remember how I loved once.
You observe.
I know what you see.
It's all perfectly visual.
Your eyes low to the ground, they catch on the tip of her heel.
You follow the curve of the red sole to reach her thin ankle.
Something possesses you to look further up, and you unintentionally trace the expanse of her languid legs.
Suddenly her eyes are staring back at you, and all you can do is instantly turn away.
Something you saw pulls you back, and you look.
Her lips are red, darker than blood and her eyes remain in your direction.
She removes the cigarette from her lips, and the look in her eyes almost throws you off your chair.
You train your eyes to look straight ahead, but when you close your eyes an image flashes.
An image of her lips pressed against the concrete.
You open your eyes only to redirect them in her direction.
Her black rimmed eyes with irises that seem desolate, are redirected away from you.
When you close your eyes another image flashes.
An image of her dead eyes staring up at you, almost pleading.
I tell myself I'm wiser than all these women.
A soothsayer with a mind of diamonds, crafted by pressure.
Until I realize my mistake, a mistake you inspired.
I thought you were my only regret; only I don't regret you.
I regret how I blame what I have become on you.
Do you feel an invisible weight, or the noose that connects us?
Delusions pile up to create the pillars of my empire.
A crown of thorns, and a belt of testosterone.
I carry these keepsakes like a trophy, or fingers to a serial killer.
They are proof I have won this war, it is a war that festers only in my mind.
I have sacrificed my flesh so you can never claim the pride of doing it yourself.
I lay in sheets with my head spinning, the smell of sweat and **** nestled in the pillows.
I smirked as I repeated these words to myself, "Here's to you, love."
My body became accustomed to these ritualistic sacrifices, and revenge vanished leaving only a bittersweet taste in my mouth.
I long for the day my body surrenders my heart, when my soul and body finally meld and my thoughts don't stray to you.
For the day my lips utter a name reverently instead of an empty moan.
Eventually all I can hope is for this man to cover these scars like a tattoo; a tattoo of ivy twisting until they reach the depth of my soul.
Eve
I watched the swell of my ******* rise and fall with each breath, and I remembered how your eyes traced the same movement.
I absentmindedly ran my fingers along the flare of my hips, and remembered how white your knuckles were as you held on to the same flesh.

I couldn't fathom how you saw my rebirth as a slow death.

I was a woman in your arms, the flushed
state of my skin was the secret to my depths.
The breaths I released were tainted by my strung vocal chords, a hymn of truth.
Each drop of sweat that descended the nape of my neck were pearls of my wisdom.
When my toes curled it was a sign; the alignment of planets.
The goosebumps that rose on my skin were the explosion of supernovas.
The sparkle in my eyes told of humble mischief.

Only what I saw in your eyes was a distortion.
The alarm on your features whispered of disappointment.
Your eyes witnessed filth, but I smelled the scent of gardenias.
Your skin was repelled by disgust, but I tasted sweetness on my lips.

I finally realized it, your mind was woven by our culture of shame.
Subconsciously your thoughts wrapped around sin and the desecration of purity.
I let you inside, cradled your needs and desires.
I basked in the rush and desperation of your movement.
But you saw this ritual as a sacrifice, and you held the knife to split me open on your malicious alter.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but you seemed to have gone blind.

The indulgence of my body and soul was wasted.
It was wasted on you who clung to ignorance,
you who was submerged in the fragility of your ego and superiority.
I would not let you sully me, or the beauty of that moment.
I would hail my strength, and scream out my confidence.
I would relish in my femininity,
for I am a woman and I would never be ashamed.
 Jan 2016 Ar Bazian
Got Guanxi
what you got in your pockets?

Reveal yourself with an object,
let the subtext talk in a million ways.
What you got hiding,
and what does it say?

What you
keep
close,
exposes
emotion.

Your devotion to the object chosen,
is outspoken in a delicate gaze.

Theres a million ways you can spend that minimum wage,
Or a rainy day,
is just a rain
drop away.

And you could save me from the cold with your ignorance.

And i could pickpocket your soul in the holes of  indifference.

But,
What’s the difference anyway.
Keep safe on your daily ways
keep safes, keeps the evil away;

I’ll keep you in my pocket until laundry day,
forget about you'
watching the world go round in bubbles and soap screens.

We got the same jeans (genes),
baby,
We got the same dreams,
baby.
 Jan 2016 Ar Bazian
Got Guanxi
He only fell for her
in full bloom blossom,
Now the flowers fell from
the top down unto the bottom
And he's forgotten,
what she looks like in fall.
He didn't love her in autumn
and she was awesome
all year round.

— The End —