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pa3que Jan 8
placed a heart inside a box,
box, sealed with a zillion locks.

then she went down on one knee,
with eyes closed she couldn’t see.

on her shoulder laid a sword,
she recalled the ghost of fjord,

for her journey to begin,
need she open din within.

placed a feather on that knee,
dropped her bones into a scree,

cold air breeze stayed far behind,
as her soul with stars aligned.

her heart remained inside a box,
someone took of all the locks,

on a sword he dropped a tear,
filled his hunger with a fear.

no one else but ghost of fjords, welcomed her amongst the wards.

feather fell on blood sprayed scree,
begins the journey with the sea.
pa3que Aug 2019
Billy’s voice,
Billy’s touch,
Billy’s midnight slumber.

(he’s a reflection of what i want)

Billy’s smile,
Billy’s lips
and guess who’s got his number.
pa3que Aug 2019
Marie, took some fresh baked goods,
set her sail through blood-curdling  woods,
in search of a one who hearts can alter.
her heart broke a man,
and so with sedan,
she seeked the one who’d scrap her falter.

to prevail over cold,
she took some gold,
to pay the one who hearts can alter.
she traveled sad,
but reached a nomad,
who claimed “i’m the one who hearts can alter.”

he was a fraud,
very sharp-clawed,
he stole her gold and then he paltered.
took his leave,
with a thieve,
after saying “Marie, your heart is altered.”

“Oh, Marie naive,
do you still grieve?”
the nomad was actually a salter,
see in this ground,
there’s not around,
a single soul that hearts can alter.
pa3que Jun 2019
dear Susie,
i’m really sorry but i have to go.
it’s not you— oh, but it actually is.

for i loved you in the field of poppies,
all up to the moment you tasted the grey dust of a city air.

-oh, but it actually is you.
pa3que May 2019
this is a darling,
to a note for self.

this marching against reflections,
might echo through the windows.
pa3que May 2019
on the edge of an apron,
border above,
hands bleed out the natron,
of thee, flies a dove.

a candlelight’s beam,
a trapdoor below,
the words to one seem,
for other to know.

soft natron in voice,
the labyrinth backstage,
out heart peaks a choice,
trapped in a black cage.

hearts bleed out to tears,
such glory they’ve seen,
eyes brighten of flares,
thee treasure, so keen.

a bow of the taking,
brown feathers as prop,
out wings lads were aiding,
necks tied with a strop.
pa3que Mar 2019
very archaic, petrified,
hiding in the dark of night.

in the alleys made of stone,
wrapped in coat, her mother sewn.

threw a glance at a shadow cold,
a man with a lighter, looking bold.

arching under thousands stars,
she watched people walk on by.

he stepped forward,
took her grip,
made her enter in his Jeep.

driven her back to his house,
introduced him to his spouse.

she laid in bed, with pink sheets paired,
in a room she and her brother shared.

she had no reason to be scared,
her family had really cared.
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