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 Jul 2018
girl diffused
We felt the wistfulness and urging
Somewhere in the pale light
Slanting across our bodies
Submerged in a bed that smelled of our discarded childhoods
Tasted of our desperation and craving for love
Devoid of anything saccharine, bitter in the aftertaste

In the early morning I laid there, on top of you
Warmth trailing from your body,
Snaking across the smooth planes of my stomach
You cradling me like I wished my father could have
Fingers threading through my hair
Untangling the knots from my childhood

You spoke into my hairline,
Christened yourself repeatedly on my skin
Your voice was a Freudian call
Above the dirge of angry tidal water
Echoing from the corpses of our past

We felt the wistfulness and urging
Somewhere in the pale light
Slanting across our faces
Verdant green of your eyes hypnotizing me
I splayed my fingers against your chest
Felt your ****** harden against the soft pad

I remembered the taste of sweet tomatoes, plump, ripe
Bursting juice onto my tongue
Coffee-soaked ladyfingers
Dappled sunlight streaming through leaves
Blue cloudless sky
Peals of youthful laughter
The smell of your mother's car—Pine Air Freshener
Her rosary swaying back and forth
A religious sacred pendulum

We felt the wistfulness and urging
Somewhere in the duller light
Slanting across our skin
Our contrasting polarizing canvases
We mourned each other in our brokenness
And in the pale evening,
Tried to assemble our skeletons back together
ambedo
n. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—briefly soaking in the experience of being alive, an act that is done purely for its own sake.

{taken from "The Dictionary of Obscure Words."}
 Jul 2018
Dhia Awanis
I was thousand kilometers away from you,
when a stranger bumped into me
he asked me where I was heading off
he asked me if I'm lost by the dead end

I remember answering that nothing to worry,
as I used to go solo and travel alone
'though he offered me help, I refused
it's the kind of kindness I can never repay

Years passed by until it comes to my senses,
how could I ever grasp his helping hand
while your fingerprints are still all over my skin?
while your voice still resonates down to my toes?

Youth was all we ever had, and
no matter how far I've come to walk away
every time I wander it goes directly to you
—I am running in circle
 Jul 2018
Kira
I read to forget
I read to feel
I read to escape
I read to heal

I read to remember
I read to distract
I read to connect
I read to backtrack

I’m okay when I read
but it hurts when I don’t
Characters are my friends
when my real friends won’t

The words are my freedom
from this desolate kingdom
Isolated by feedback and uncontrollable flashbacks

I need release from the pain
To breakout of these chains
They torture my brain
looking to blame

I keep running away
from the grief in my mind
I’m tortured by thoughts
I’m not ready to find

I’m trying to outpace my agony and resentment
But my only liberation is to accept contentment

My bookcase is filling with more empty reads
Who am I kidding, what more could I need
I'm fairly new to poetry. I love to use poetry to express certain emotions or feelings, but I'm still figuring out my style and learning more about it. I would love any criticism or insights you could give!
 Jul 2018
eileen
Insanity is keeping me
from ever having a straight face
 Jul 2018
Ain
I
Step by step
I walk......I move

Breath by breath
I breathe ......I live

Brick by brick
I make.....I build

Word by word
I talk....I say...

Day by day
I grow....I rise

Drop by drop
I cry....I shed

Bit by bit
I break ... I tear

Tick by tick
I part.....I die....
 Jul 2018
Edmund black
Sent with love
Tango with love
Camouflaged by love
I escaped my cage
Not a soul on earth
can ever trick me
into going back
Regardless what
you tell me
I am free.
I never quite understand why people fear being loved!
 Jul 2018
Fumbletongue
Romance for me is about moments of connection
to feel something larger than myself
To witness the cosmos in and from the eyes of another
To be vulnerable, raw, wild, honest, open, books of discovery
Moments that make me feel deep and lush
Hypnotic. A whispered word. A brush of skin. Shared desires.
Late nights. Moon light. Inside jokes. Thoughtful words.
Laughter. Fireworks. Fireflies. Campfires. Rainy days in.
Pillow fights. Pranks. Trust. Live music. Cold beer.
Carnivals. Confidence. Honesty. Legos. Little round ice cubes.
Sledding. Gingersnaps. Aggressive Sports. Motorcycles.
Clean lines. The horizon. Walks. Avocados. Wine. Bare feet.
Morbidity. Sarcasm. Wit. Presence. Midnight. Open arms.
Yellow Curry. Coloring. Puzzles. Abandoned Places.
White chocolate. Fruit jellies from Germany. Motown. Violins.
Art Nouveau. Intimacy. Decorum. Curiosity. Metallurgy.
Alchemy. A well told story. Absurdity. Whimsy. Shade. Shadows.
Things that are slightly off. Heavy blankets. Bubbles. Silhouettes.
Glitter. Smirks. Poise. Grace. The melody in a laugh.
The blush of cheeks. The thought in a touch. Poise. Grace.
Night time insect and frog lullabies. Autumn Forests.
The way a hummingbirds and dragonflies fly. Outtakes. Freckles.
Tickles. Rain. Fog. Strangers. Dancing. Finger foods.
Warm apple cider. Open windows.  Wood wind chimes.
Squishing my toes in dirt. The moment a smile begins.
Mood lighting. Candles. String lights. Sherbert. Snuggles.
Warming my **** by a fire and sitting down fast. Treasure.
Lightning. Beethoven. *******. Challenges. Delayed Gratification.
Desired anticipation. Seduction. The wind. Cedar chests. Calliopes.
Austria. Vistas. Fingertips. Dangling my feet. Whispers. Spirals.
Just keeping a list. Don't mind me
 Jul 2018
Mary Gay Kearns
Sixpence could buy you a lot
A plastic doll from Woolworths
Crayons and cut - out books
A pair of socks
Packet of curby grips
Box of handkerchiefs
Half a yard of lace
Cheap lipstick
Flannel for face
Pears soap
A remote boat.

The counters of Woolworths
Were stacked with joy
Something for all the
Boys and girls
Suspenders for mother
Shaving stick for dad
And packets of sweeties
That we all had.

Love Mary x
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