Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Sep 20
abecedarian
passion
thirst
hurt
ephemeral
physical

cold heat
hunger
water walking
brutally real
physical

skin colors
words spontaneous
devious planned
desire desired,
physical

concrete
parchment thin
muscled strong
catch a caught
physical

making
creating
cresting
cannot live without
physical

electric
shocking
eclectic
varied
realized

why? stop here?

eyed
fingered
tongue tasted,
ear sensual
dreamt

famous
buried
tragic
comedic
gaming played

unsafe
at any
speed
languorous
fire immolating

physical chest pains,
incurable
incumbent
to possess
otherwise, death

fingernails poking
knuckle kissing
lips wetting
blood exchanging
oh yeah physical

foreign native
young old
permanently temporary
infinitely finite
definitely unending

nowhere
no expression
dying dreams
best better
agonizing

agonizing
unrequited
offer everything
receive shoulder
colder than hell

defensive
offensive
cape laid
walk on me
chivalry

until we hold each others fingers knotted
until I stroke your hair unexpectedly,
until we agree to hell with all the rest
until we say the say the same thing simultaneously
until we come together

when we have satisfied each and every one of the above,
freely confess
know nothing of love
but the picayune details that make us greater
greater than greater, greatest, then and only then
we, might have a few clues
Come dance with me
Let’s touch the stars
Baila conmigo
Let’s listen to romantic music
Come walk with me
Anda conmigo
Come explore the world with me
Let’s see all there is to see
Let’s watch the stars dance
Watch the moon watching us
Let’s smell the roses
Vamos oler las rosas
Come laugh with me
Give me one hundred smiles
Come be with me
Ven conmigo
Forever
 Sep 9
guy scutellaro
the edge of good bye
soft and slow.

the shiver of night
and you fell into the arms
of night
and hope knelt
like a whimpering dog.

the chair across empty

and in the seams of sleep
i find the words I never spoke....

and in a dream,

i can trace my fingers slowly
along your cheek,
feel the warmth of skin,
and the edges of longing
fall into place.

how far is heaven?
 Jul 24
solEmn oaSis
Ang lungkot 😥at inis 😡ay simbolo ng senyales na kaya nating magawang pigilan Ang ating paghinga pero Hindi Ang tibok ng puso pati na iba pang mga nasa at sanA na napapaloob sa tinitibok nito...
....
Ngunit Kapag natungkab na ang Langib at hayaang maghilom ang emosyon sa pamamagitan ng muling pagtataklob sa nananariwang dinaramdam...
Mauulit uli sa bandang huli Ang sikLo ng Kagalingan.

Tulad ng Isang hakbang sa bawat baitang
Paakyat man o pababa ?
Nasa dulo pa man o bandang gitna pa...
Laging naririyan Ang tawag ng gabay
Parating naghihintay sa KANANG Kamay ...
....sa tuwing ang kaliwa naman ay nasa kabilang HANAY .

At sa paanan ng hagdanan
bibihira Ang may namamangHa😮
Habang ako naman ay patuloy lang na lumilikom ng mga hangarin ...🌛🌞
...na para bang nasa pasilyo ng pangarap Ang aking talampakan habang namamangKa 🙏

© 24th day of JULY
2025 , THIRST DAY

sinulat ni :
solEmn oaSis

To God be the Glory !
" pasilyo ng pangarap "
(is also one of my upcoming after
"Gabay ng Titolo"
inspired by ryn's " Backtrack "
 May 17
Julie Butler
Woke up something soft
this morning
3:36, 37
the unfailing sound of orange

time traveler’s pillowcase
face down like
the root of something
bigger
preferring

I’m learning this
the long way

Panting after
licking the envelope

stuck inside of
appetite’s loop
& my tendencies hands
all over you
 Apr 13
Shang
we didn’t need music
just the hum of the fridge
and the dog barking two floors down.
the sheets were half off the bed,
her hair in knots,
my hands shaking
like I’d lived a hundred lives
and never touched something so real.

Serena—
she looked at me like she already knew
where the cracks were
and kissed me there first.
no ceremony,
just heat and breath
and two ******-up hearts
trying to beat in time.

she moaned like it mattered,
like the world might stop spinning
if we didn’t keep going.
I bit her lip, she scratched my back,
we left bruises that felt like
truth.

afterward,
she lit a cigarette
with a hand still trembling
and said,
"we’re not broken,
just bruised in the right places."
and I believed her.
Intimacy is such a delicate and necessary thread that weaves true connection, trust, and vulnerability between hearts.

oh, today is my birthday!
 Apr 7
junipercloud
I sit on the white bench under the willow tree near the funeral home.
I miss the haunted house, light blue like my childhood home used
to be, and I think, can I visit? and where shall I stay?
The picket fence was broken, you mended it; someday I will return
only to bend it again. Thinking of you all the while.
Thinking of you at Hy-Vee stealing someone else’s groceries
from their cart because I told you I liked to rebel,
and you listened, and we both understood
why we wanted to take the apples we wouldn’t eat.
Ants spilling from the ripe fruit as we bit into it,
like dawn, like perpendicular lifelines.
And all this is imaginary, like the blank playing card
you found on the ground in front of a different person’s house;
but I think about it like it’s true.
I’m at a funeral home, after all. And I swear,
I must have conjured you out of the dark. The stars splintered, the
moon split open; fingertips sinking
steadily into lunar grooves, lattices, plaits of long black hair.
I pulled you from the silver dust— breath to bone. And I love you,
but I miss you all the same, for we were made from the same stardust;
we passed each other before we slipped out of collective conscious into the human race.
And the sky ends six times before I get up from the bench. And I knock
six times on the front door before passing through it.
Wrapped in a black cloak. Accustomed to the taste
of ice as it is handed to me in small plastic cups,
brought to me as I lay in a hospital bed; everything pale, sallow,
the nurses gazing absently with pity on their faces. And I chew my ice.
And I will come back to the funeral home, to the haunted house, to you.
I will come back.
Next page