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 Mar 2017
SG Holter
Zoom in. See your heart at its
Most spectacular through an
Electron microscope.

I've come to embrace our
Lack of foreverness, yet
Witness it through

Our faint touches hidden
Behind backs while passing.
No, there is nothing divine

Here. No shade of an angel's
Wing over our hearts as they
Stroke each other fleetingly,

Just two pieces of mud in a
World of dirt and
Water.

A broken man in a complete
Galaxy; I carry my pieces with  
My back straight.

This scarred heart is weak, but
My arms are well trained from
Taking its loads.

I'll carry yours when you need
Me to. Zoom out. See our joined
Hearts through a telescope.

Milky Way doorways.
The magical kissing of a neck
Across a threshold.
 Mar 2017
Corvus
Cold, lonely shower.
Watching the skies turn dark grey.
Soft piano notes.
 Mar 2017
SG Holter
One for sorrow, two for joy...
Black spots in waves over
Snow crusted
Fields and the jagged
Dark teeth of pine
Beyond.

Girl, boy, silver, gold.* I
I only know her well enough
To trace the place on my face
Where it last
Touched hers, with a
Pensive finger as

I gaze out at the
Winterness floating by.
Yes, I guess that feels like a
Smile. Eight for a wish, nine
For a kiss.

Something secret wonders if

It ever will want to be told,
And I hold the part of myself
That would rather soar than
Join feathers with another,
Tightly. I never seem to get my
Crows in a row.
Attracted to
distracted by
the colours painted
in the sky.
 Feb 2017
L Seagull
drawn inside the mysterious wind
never friendship but string that keeps pulling
cage is empty the bird stopped to sing
small dull uninspired feeling enduring
disconnection that kills most painfully
only presence fills in the cracks
so I sip from the cup of confusion
drawing truth from the chilling abyss
gathering scattered beads of your thoughts
into a warm pouch of my mind
hoping to string them all back together
one day
but ****, those slippery things
Some days feel so dull and empty. Reality has little to do with this. If someone has a good muse reference - please share
 Feb 2017
Denel Kessler
fallow winter does not bring
peace to the restless soul
finger-licked, waiting
on subtle winds shifting
for the tropical taste
of exotic droplets of rain
a salt-stained remembrance
in this time of dreaming

red-light ladies hatch
in raftered minds
a mass awakening
beneath hardened shell
freedom awaits wings
a collective opening
an essential
transformation
 Feb 2017
ryn
I amble as if I weigh a tonne

I gasp as if someone has lied

I weep as if I have no words

I mourn as if something has died
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