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  Dec 2015 laj
Samantha Adams
the ash tray her palette,
the blackish gray suffix of each cigarette shadowed her eyes
well enough.
at every Christmas dinner, the scent of gingerbread
tried to poke through her cloudy nicotine
(something as bothersome as “whataboutgraduateschool whathappenedto that boy from such and such a time”)
or dimension.

she much rather enjoyed how the television graced her ears,
without absentminded clattering silverware.
just three easy payments of 12 simple steps
a calming lecture from a man in a pinstriped suit
somewhere in Malibu.
when the infomercial ends
he, too, flicks something in his ash tray
laj Apr 2015
bristly, hirsute displays
glimmering through eyes
drunken with spontaneity,
we revel
in distraction and salacious paroxysm,
jezebel and i,
we chase the stars at night
in shoes tattered and decked in gold
laj Mar 2015
patch of moonlight
swam to my bedroom
in the dead of monday
cloaked and gleaming
sprung and sprawled
'pon the walls like it was summer
  Mar 2015 laj
there's basically
no difference between
clouds and fog, and
thunderstorms and reduced visibility
have both put the fear of God in me;
loving you is all
pain and lust, interchangeable,
interchangeable. slippery
squealing synthesizers, aching
for your touch and
dying to throw these
LCDs and LEDs and private
snapchats into the Recycle
and I am glittering in the dark, swerving
across the median, drunk driving
on the thought of seeing you just a little
sooner than never.
laj Mar 2015
estría, de ida y
vuelta corres
deslumbrante y encendida
cuando estoy ciego
me guias en
campos de girasoles
contra la quemadura del sol
  Mar 2015 laj
isabella leonora bech
her eyes flashing electric green,
her hand on mine in the night;
damp and warm and earthy like
the forest floor, her skin ethereal,
almost crystalline, translucent,
burning hot when i touch it
burning cold when i don't
all of them thrown from their homes,
all of them motherless,  fatherless,
all of them lost and afraid and doing
things that  put them in danger just
to stay alive for some hours
they teach me how to breathe, how
not to fear, how not to depend
i run through their world bare foot,
wild-eyed and naive
but i’ve only just learnt how to walk
and i’m tired, sweat falls down my back
like tears and i feel her gaze digging
into my flesh and around my flesh
just like clothes you can't take off
i am always aware of the constant ticking,
of getting  closer and closer to the point
where i have to leave,  do what is expected
of me, do what they say; grow up just
like blue flowers do
i stretch my arms across her all night;
i press myself into her in the hope that
i will dissipate into her blood stream
i could never love her how she needed me to,
i never learnt how to hold her hands
because she needed me to hold onto them
too tightly and my fingers were never
able to grasp at things when she was near
i never could explain that being with
someone so dangerous was the first time
i ever felt safe, holding her up made me
weaker than i thought
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