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 Sep 2014 Nyx
Lindsey Durbin
My favorite things,
lungs half filled with smoke,
windows down,
heat turned high,
the flexing muscles in your legs
as you tip-toe across the kitchen,
feelings of anticipation
for next time, the ticking of the clock
late mornings,
favorite things, touching,
the hair all over my body,
the hair all over your body,
that story i tell
over and over
of when I jumped off the balcony,
the memories
of magazine ink and coffee,
dotting i's and crossing t's,
tracing the map of scars on my belly
firsts, seconds,
beginnings and ends
the magic that surrounds us
the mystery
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Kvothe
Words are like fruit,
hanging freely,
really just waiting
to be plucked.
Some tantilize the tongue
with sweetness,
pieces meeting
our mouth with
juicy meaning.
Others leave
a sour shock
to our senses.
When this
bitter biting
heightens
the now rising
sense of
crying,
we recoil.
Curling away
from the
not so ripe
narration.
Patient,
for a  more
cohesive cocktail's
coming.
Just a little thought on writing
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Victoria Queen
Go
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Victoria Queen
Go
If you go
I will have to follow,

for I am nothing
if not loved by you.
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Bjørn O Holter
I fold my poem
into an intricate rose
still she has no scent
first attempt at a haiku
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Unfortunate Smile
Use the
hot water
to burn
his touch
off your
crying skin.

                                   Fog up
                                   the bathroom
                                   the same
                                   way that
                                   he fogged  
                                   up your
                                   unhinged mind.

                                                                         Drain your
                                                                         bathtub just
                                                                         as colours
                                                                         have drained
                                                                         from your
                                                                         bland existence.  

Pour water down the same patterns that his fingers drew on your spine.
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Hollow
I smiled as she looked into my eyes
Accepting, expecting
She wondered just what I had in mind
And I gave a devilish grin
I kissed her neck, down her torso
Ran my fingers down the length
Of her sides
Until they met her thighs
I ducked my head
Kissed her navel
Looked up once more
To see her face
Her closed eyes behind tangled red hair
Her mouth slightly open
Allowing only shudders of breaths to escape
And I dipped
To meet my lips
To her lips
I felt a longing
In the warmth of her thighs
Tasted her sweetness
As my feet brushed against
An empty bottle
...
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Ramona Argo
I wish I was a cigarette
so she'd have a reason to stick me in 
her mouth.

She'd **** me down hard like water.
Put me in, take me out, put me in, take me out,
always back in 
her warm, pink
mouth.

I'd take the fall to hell just to have
seven minutes of her
inhaling me in like happy poison,
disappearing softly
inside of her,
and her, still craving
me
                             long after.
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Sag
I just want your smile.
Why must you give it to Her?
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Sag
Untitled
 Sep 2014 Nyx
Sag
Yes I'm angry
And it's eating me alive
Because I want to be the one who makes you happy
But the only time I ever see you smiling is when you're talking to her, or about her, or listening to her spanish music on the radio
I'm so angry that I can't be enough for you
I'm so angry
I'm never angry
I'm so ******* angry I can't see straight
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