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 May 2020
ali
with ice stretching
up the window
and the sun’s reflections
dancing on car hoods
i told you
when the warmth returns,
we’re going to
stargaze.
you tilted your head
as a puppy would,
questioning the spontaneity
of such a wish.
i had said i was just thinking.
but i lied
because every time
i fall into your eyes
i gaze at the universe inside,
brimming with possibility,
every time
i lose myself in your eyes
it’s because
i’m too busy stargazing,
diamonds of wishes
that never could be,
remnants of dreams
that could each set me free,
the sun and moon
bold and stark
against the universe,
you ache to give me it all.
but for once,
i wanted you to see
what i fell in love with
so easily.
dreaming of SUMMER that's all i want
 May 2020
Lora Lee
in the crackling dawn
firebuds burn,
electric
spirit cells lit
in aeortic pulse
ventricles open
to a psychic doorway
stepping through,
she remembers it
that ember
of arcane ritual
divination of
intimate fires
ancient inner knowledge
sparked

Now is a time
for mourning
for celebration
for resurrection
tears streaming
like cool rivers
her palms splayed
reaching up
spilling over
her breath
as steady
as the stars
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-V4QAYUvenE&list=RD-V4QAYUvenE&start_radio=1&t=0
 May 2020
Kvothe
This bleak existence
reeks
of cisterns,
it peeks it's leaky head
above the gutters.
Shuttered **** tight.

Death is the meaning of life.

Sylvia knew it best,
resting under home,
bone heavy
and sleepless.
That jar of hers;
irksome,
thirsts on monochrome
bleakness;
needless, overblown nerves.
Smash it!
Crush it!
Whack it!
Mush it!
Classic glassy mess.
Break it!
Fix it.
Tape it.
Place it.
Back now on your head.
 May 2020
Medusa
maybe you, only you, why not you
when you broke me open it worked
too well all the runes spilled out like
thirst onto wet blossoms nothing
could make me take it back

given in is a given when there is no body
here there is always a touch hinting at more it is your hands
it is your eyebrow it is just a passing river dream
of years now in a rock cleft where fingers can
explain one hand, one hand will become a life

still stuck clinging for no reason other than the love of
that perfection inside the frilled ridge
oyster to my lips a shell within my moist
center where nothing must be cast out
until ultimate description unites

darkness visible to my ***** imagination
there will I lie to call back possibilities
no longer tame, not ours perhaps yet
nothing stops my train on fire bursting
through all your darks at once

immediate remote altitude
love full of goat head stickers without
brakes until someone will explode into stars
before bewildered eyes who refuse to see
remember, or explain because they have gone

mute
 May 2020
Onoma
do not wear my words

as flattery, even if you should

find them addressed to you.

they are the reverberations

of our combined power.

sit on the ground,

and look up.

— The End —