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How the sky glazes over in clouds,
And your fickle heart
Keeps me just as freezing cold
As icy drops on a window
Hoping for a spring thaw,
Followed by a summer glow
They feel out of place
Come the next holy day
I’ll make peace with them again
Settling where I belong
Among the meadows and fog

The foreign tongue you speak
Is not of a country known
Or believed
I welcome quiet,
Though complete death of gesture
Deafening silence
Is what you give to me

I do not know why the stars flicker in and out
Before hiding once again
They are beautiful still
Calli Kirra Nov 6
I should’ve known
You’d feed me to the forest floor again
I’ve read medieval tales,
Guessed each gluttonous end
The maiden dies by the sword of her love,
Or resigns to playing pretend
I won’t stubbornly awaken
I won’t touch my flesh
To your jagged, poison edge

Your iron briars wither
Down to their sharpest point
Through the deepest wood and bone
They slice
Calli Kirra Nov 3
I think to myself,
If you were to leave me
As soon as in the hands of tomorrow
How imprinted,
Pink and new
Would I want your outline
Over my shoulders and hips?
I do not take each new morning for a fool,
For I have tasted years without you
And you have seen death
In your brother’s eyes
Onto lonely wrists,
Your hope splashed and dried
I behave in terms of forever
For I have felt last chances
Fluttering in my hands
I let them bend and crumble
I wish you’d think of our possibilities
Evaporating peacefully
And what you’d do to change fate,
Do tomorrow
It will.
Calli Kirra Oct 27
Unfurl, and
Altogether bloom
I am now open to you
Warm, I can
Spread out thick
Fine and ****
As though turned to sugar sand
I only have a velvet “yes”
Jumping at the gate of my lips
I only have clean hands
Held out open to you
Calli Kirra Oct 26
I would be your lace enclosed
Dewy Irish rose
Your wide eyed
God-fearing wife
I would scream and taunt you,
Echo into the country night
Just to keep your tongue wet,
Your muscles used,
Red and tight
I’d tell you we need
Three ivory linen sheets
One to practice,
And perfect our technique
Two to plant
Each poppy seed
I’d fill you full
Up to the brim
Present to you my golden hair
To lay down all your worries in
Calli Kirra Oct 13
If this black,
Blood red,
Billowing fire
Could rage any higher
Burn up the oxygen
Your false words selfishly syphon
Convinced they require
It would be a mighty
Heavenly force
But within the grand canvas,
Quite a minor feat
For theatrical,
Merciless me
Never so kind
As to stop at your feet
I’d bury you alive
Cut holes for your
Force you to watch
The horror of melting earth and trees  
The irony  
Of the rain so closely watching,
And choosing to leave
Calli Kirra Oct 6
I do not have much
Of your arms, or legs
Or fingers,
Or opened wide
I do not have much of your naked eyes
Pooling wet around the green,
Specked with golden fireflies
I have not many of your lines,
Remembered well
Much less memorized
Much better
Is every word you tried
To skip across to me
A smooth stone from the lakeside
So that maybe
I could see the signs,
Come to know your heart
In my own way,
On my own time
Once I settled in with the crickets
To play the flute in our goodbye,
The saddest melody,
My only lullaby
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