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I sought out
broken dolls

told anyone
who would listen
I could talk
to trees

pressed my forehead
to strong bark
and strained
to master
telepathy

tell me anything, I want to believe

melted away
legs pumping
on a rusted swing

daydreaming of
disappearing
into
cloudless Texas sky

the kind of blue
that hurts
heart and eyes
always fragments
 Jul 5 Amy Perry
Balaguer
It was art
intuitively we aspire
destruction
I reminisce upon the reflection of your face
a garden of angles
Japanese cherry blossoms in their trees
your aura
was layers of white clouds
the sun was over it.
It was brighter as I looked.
I closed my eyes
to see
a bright star in the sky,
when I think about your face,
I melt
like birds looking for food
and find themselves inside
a snake's
mouth.
Serpents
 Jul 1 Amy Perry
Brandon
If my fate is to love you
From a distance
Then I'll burn for you
Like a star in your night sky
Bright, steady, reliable
Unwavering
Until the end of time.
I wasn't paying attention
when you started
proposing to me

We were on that sailboat
the Seattle skyline aglow
and the sea's siren song
was serenading me
from down below

Years ago
I didn't trust myself
to stay afloat

but that day I thought
this might be the happiest
I'll ever be

It wasn't until
you knelt
wobble feet
on the deck
that my body was shocked
back to reality

Forgive me
but I don't remember
the words of the speech
composed on ladders
sparked by the flowing
electricity

But I remember
your full, clear eyes
the wind whipping my cheek
and the sun dripping
low in the sky

Your heart,
melting mine
A couple good ones coming to balance things out
 Jun 27 Amy Perry
angelique
poetry
a universal language
a feeling and a belief
a voice for the voiceless
a mirror for humanity

messages tangled in
silken webs of thoughts
sometimes intangible
sometimes whole
thoughts that mesh with words
lilting soft
sudden deep cut

poetry
a mind heart and soul
a safe escape
in tapestries of messages and words
it is the stuff dreams are made of
tonight's inspirations:

"we are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep" - prospero, the tempest, act iv, scene one, 148-158.

"is this the stuff dreams are made of..." - line from one of my all-time favourite songs, 'second skin' by the chameleons.
Small beads on the bottom
Of a wooden jewelry box
The one with lacquered birds
The broken necklace
Your father’s gift
The beads live in the corners
Because we treasure people
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