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acacia Jul 12
Her yarn sings to me, wrapping around me like I am the knitting needle. I am stuck, happily stuck, between oblivion, the short cues, the seam ripper. Taking my dreams, weaving them with things, embroider me like I’m in a catalogue

The yarn stretches out, luring me more, deeper and deeper into her knitted womb: soft, fuzzy peach and a fleshy-toned pink escapes from the room, and leaches into here

Every time I look up through the soft exits of light, into her smooth-pebbled eyes, I see what she’s thinking of
fuggedaboutit
Jul 12 · 56
Aspects
acacia Jul 12
Everything arrives, everything fades; everything wanes, everything waxes; it all climaxes eventually only to decline.
Nothing stays the same, nothing is stagnate.
How can I try to achieve a still, immobile mind if everything is
in action? Or is the aspect of being motionless a form of mobility?
The bodies, air, clouds, stars, planets, you, I, we, omnia. Change, growth, wave, tide, death, birth, move, spin, twirl, back, forth, this side, that side. Never idle. Never still.
Loops, chains, cycles, ring, rotation. Sequence. Saturn always returns.
Is this the point in our liberation? Abolition from the clamor, from the static, from the busy, from the passerby. Freedom within our ability to calm our Self, ability to cease ourselves in an unceasing land of ocean-noise.
expectant
acacia Jul 12
Sullied, broken shoes coagulate down-below the creek, endlessly floating to the bottom
running away with bare feet
You are just like they told me you'd be: nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing at all

I wish I could fall back into a blend of a plethora of cottons whisked with the textures of you and are all delicately folded within these seams of stretched and wrinkled fabrics, tempered and brushed
I'm just like they warned me I'd be: tempted, tempted, tempted, tempted again

A warmth escapes your nose, your eyes drop below the balloon, but have you stopped to see what's rising before and from me?

Beforth you, remember, the decision we made in the drastic evening many moons ago where we saw butterflies free themselves from chrysalides

Progression towards your death for I will be the eclipse, the catalyst—then you will apply towards me and separate towards me, for we all do, we all apply and separate and tighten and loosen and wax and wane and attract and unattract and maximize and minimize and captive and repel—
to know those things makes me feel better
Reverberating between the sink, I bounce off porcelain brisk neatness, twined leggings, and floating fortunes
Fortunate you're so unfortunate to be blessed with the only way
of knowing me: through the soul—each year you'll find me,
each life you'll know me; as long as you have feelings to hurt
I'll have a way to get to you
This means nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing at all

Without being too direct, too blunt, too unpoetic,
don't listen to my feverish talk
I am in a state of ill-will, in a state of benign-despondency,
I am catatonic, I am feeling threatened
It is buried in the past, though my intuition is in flames
Let me give this a try: I'll give you my letters written in my tears,
I package the letter in tears, I deliver the tear-veloped letter in tears; when I fall, right now, through this loop, through the bed for
the bed is my loop, for the loop is my bed, and I want to feel better:
falling through repeatedly: portal above me, portal below me
The same fallen places, the same sunken categories
You'd love this constancy, wouldn't you?

Drop into an abyss of rising sunshine and jaundiced moonshine,
for I am never going to see you again—I will, we all will
The sun sees you every day, the moon watches you every night,
and I have thought of you for years, never understanding why (nor who you were),
but now I firmly understand why
If I cease my ignorance of the future, will the future still happen?

Wilting towards willowing followers, budding flowers in exchange for a faulty handshake: the most cheekiest of ******* you see down the street, freely (arm-in-arm) flying from under your frown; they fraulick under trees for what seems to be forever through meadows, meandering with the smoke and lingering as a Jordanian river-like stench near a swamp,

for you are just like they warned me you'd be: fleeting, flying, flipping, frenzying away
Jul 11 · 134
Waiting #25
acacia Jul 11
‪waiting under your pearly fluid, aqueous shaped fractals reflecting into shards projecting against my blue-tinted ebony—my wide eyes gazing here and there beneath this submerged scintillating prism, pondering: can I have you the way I want to?‬
honeymoon avenue...
Jul 11 · 61
And honestly,
acacia Jul 11
you were never mine, anyway.
Not in this life. I look up away out the window into the blue sky. I’d be so in love with you, almost lover. And honestly,
was I ever yours? No, not in this life. I look back down at my shoes on the ground.
yougotmegone
acacia Jul 10
I'm taking back the things I wrote for you,
(I) and that includes your sweet little Bougainvilleas, too.
Let's go, take off all of your magnets, strip off your electricity,
leave the arrogance in the trash; don't set foot on my lawn
until you take off your ***** shoes (shoes); you'll travel
here with your swarming ideologies, too; but don't forget
my sweet little spatial rule. Let's go, fling off this act you have:
don't keep me waiting on a leash. On a leash. (I’ll have you on my leash, you.) Read some more of the
**** you sift through (through); I regret calling you and everything I do (with you). Let's go, you aren't higher than me, and I am not below you; remember what color comes after me, the Blue (blue)
two tone switching
two men revolving
perspective floating
acacia Jul 9
You were the Little Death of me
caused an arousal around me
blood hurricane from inside me
pearly waters overflow from within me
(I blacked out after your jetstream into my fresh laundry)
cotton tumbled beneath me
stay right here: never leave me
stay right here: just besides me
stay right here: press play: enter me
Jul 9 · 1.3k
Bougainvillea
acacia Jul 9
Because of you when I close my eyes I see ascending tectonic plates
shifting higher planes of mind
risening of my aura
deterioration of my magnetic field, for You and yours are too powerful to stand off or overcome
You love that, you like that
I am no longer awaiting your return for I have found peace, tranquility, comfort, and solace
with the projected matrix buffered loaded script avatar You spring to me,
whilst I save all my energy for the husk I cry into
I am selfish for wanting to give you and You my womb -- please, eat. enjoy the meal, the nutrition I have carved, paved, and heated for you
if I had a head I’d rest it on your shoulder
I’m so sleepy; take a nap with me, yeah? I’ll make You feel better (I know you’re staying in again)
I close my eyes and see roses and the bougie bougainvillea growing for y(Y)ou
Jul 8 · 120
y’all weird weird
acacia Jul 8
I want everyone to see him
from that angle,
my two bell shaped petals engulfing him up to his nose
his hands groping at my large end
his tongue making my brown flesh glisten in the dim 6 o’clock evening
Jul 8 · 54
Bernadette (Mine)
acacia Jul 8
i saw her across the room, hair bouncing and hair flowing
eyes big like moons, shining bright like suns; yet eyelids drooping like curtains -- closing blinds
mouth soft and ready, looking to be worshipped

she moves her voice
it's dancing all the time

her voice makes me weak to my knees -- my ears even twitch
hope she keeps singing (for me), keeps talking (to me)
i don’t care if it’s not to me and not for me, long as she never quiets down

but since i am imperfect, now and then i miss it
i don’t get to hear it, it makes me cry

Even I wish I didn’t have to be so ignorant to the aphrodisiac bundled like a pearl in her mouth
(Forming in her vocal chords and rising onto those taste buds, attaching)



her body talks, and i listen
it says hello and giggles at me

hearing it makes me feel crazy; i’m trying to not let anyone hear me talk back to her hips
she doesn’t think i’m crazy, though
she feels almost flattered by my assertion (my desperation), and she likes my unintended oblivion (pain)
she wants my childish, meek love

time after time, i might hear something calling me
i’ll be asleep, sleeping soundly because my baby’s next to me
but when i hear her calling me, when i hear her call me and i realize it’s on my baby
it makes me lose my mind. it makes bread stale
this is my life: loving her soul and loving her body
not hearing moans from her small mouth but from that pretty pink petal soft bloom
from those quivering thighs
hydrated and blossomed, waiting for me to cultivate and deflower (again and again)
to consume, to be the bee that absorbs nectar and stings

too perfect; a perfection that needed to be violated

the earth is angry at my thoughts of her
mother doesn’t like the way i show her my love
the way i denature this nature; the way i pinch the supple skin, the honeysuckle sweet supple skin
the soft strands that get caught in my hands, but slip through my fingers


she loves it when i hit her (i swear she does, she is so glad)

you know, she is ready for me to give her what she was missing during those workdays
she’ll make me lose my mind with that look she’s giving me
keep that soap running down her back, keep that water running hot
i don’t care if it burns. why? because she’s making me lose my mind
with those eyes
re-upload

poem still applies
acacia Jul 8
“you were the boyfriend in my ******* last night”,
soaked up in the bed, and i dried those tears;
saturated moonlight absorbing my old fears.
dust falls from the empty shelves,
books fade with memories.
do you remember your text? do you remember your call?
do you remember to keep me in your sight?
hang me on your wall, don’t forget me tonight.
you say your thirst can keep you up all night,
you say your hunger can take away your fight.
keep me in the front of your mind, don’t push me to the back (of the line).
inspired by self control

an old draft

another synchro my friend
Jul 8 · 47
sex and the law
acacia Jul 8
just raw
barebacked
i arch my back
you love the view

sultry moans
lewd groans
your grip is tight
you think of someone else (nobody's thinking about you) (i'm not)

chances increase
emotions are heightened
you have a garden
with a lot of green and a lot of red
and some blue

february hues
stormy nights
real dry days
nowhere seems to be safe

sultry skies
dying stars
(i’m dying)
you love the view
old draft, of course

it's draft weekend
acacia Jul 8
there's no heaven or hell in outer space
and it's hard to live
we share plants and animals
and the sea with the earth, yet we both have never seemed so lonely
now with them out of our way,
our dreams can finally come true
acacia Jul 8
Where are you from?
She opens those bright pink lips, and in response, her voice dances with wind, making my being feel light.
She's made from fragments of unidentified matter found in the empty part of the sky.
Her religion and spirituality are righteous waves that crash down on my soul, soothing every part of me and debunking me down.
She blesses the Earth with her green thumb that plants the seeds, her tears that water Earth, and her eyes that radiates the glow and warmth of the Sun.
She blesses all life forms that walk the Earth, she guides them in the direction, and she shows willing mercy and forgiveness. She blesses with love even when she doesn’t receive it back.
Every time she says something to me I believe in God a little bit more.
I believe she is a Goddess, is the ultimate creatrix.
I should've worshipped her sooner.
An excerpt from a short prose I have called "Pesce". Italian for "fish". It's taken from a man's perspective. This is how he sees the love of his life.]

draft from 2016 holy moly
acacia Jul 8
Your invisible eyes climb my body.
You must tame your impulse to touch my brown, plump skin.
Your pink mouth starts to water as your fingers gently caress
my umber cheek.

And when your wilting finger touches me I remember that
the leaves are reminded when it's their turn to fall;
there is always a voice in the back of a leaf's head saying,
"You are a reminder of birth, of Spring, and always will be."

The trees are told to age thousands of years, to show
man what he cannot destroy.
And, the more I think about it,
the more I realize that the Earth will remain forever.
And, the more I think about it,
the more I know I would die if I could come back new.
Sometimes old, sometimes new.

wrote this years ago in like 2014/2015 posted it somewhere but now here
acacia Jul 8
No, no,
this isn't real. My eyes have deceived me for the last time!
[Woe is me! Miserable woman that I am! Who will save this body undergoing this death?]
You can take your food of gods and shove them in someone else's throat; for I, yes, for I will not have you.
OH, BODY!
OH, MY BODY, I WANT YOU TO KNOW HOW MUCH YOU MEAN!


just a youngling draft
acacia Jul 8
Baby's Went to Go Get Red:
You did something to me that day
you speak to me with a familiar amusement and rain authority over my head
broken fangs form around the rings on the sidenotes
translate and trust in what you write and say
you shouldn't trust me for i am playing with you
whether you're here from last month to scold me
or in an attempt to find me, to hold me once more
no longer can we dance around in the rain
waltz through halls and parks and fields and meadows of posies
no longer can you lecture me ever so sweetly
or raise your voice at me in the most luxurious of ways

the sky won't hold your hand no longer and neither will i
for in this while i am a dog, i am domesticated, i have a home, i have a future, i have stability
call this settling, in your neatly-written notes on the world and life, but i call it content
you can ask me all you need but i can never
tell you the truth / you might have to find out on your own

Baby's Got Blue:
you big-eyed man
antagonizing gnosis, you want to hurt women
i'd let you wrap your hands around my neck
i'd let you come over me and slap me to the other side of the
wooden room


but you could never

tuck me in at night, hold my hand across the street,
cut up my food,
(right? don't make me confused)

while i hug my Master(you), i cling to Him(dady)
TWO MODES
TWO TONES
DUALITY
THIS TIME, DUALITY, I MEAN IT
THIS TIME, TWO MEN, I MEAN IT
Jul 8 · 43
lilac trees part two
acacia Jul 8
are there lilac trees where your heart begins? do you follow the river down the road that leads to my smile of gold? i lick up your contagious favors, and i drink up all your sin. you walk around town like you're the man who's never going to win. are there bees of Her buzzing in your ear? are there lipstick stains on your collar you wear as a badge? do you tie *******? can you snort a knot? will you fix your words? will you say it again? do you wear tennis shoes? do you think she looks good like that? where do you roam when the sun comes up? are there birch nut trees in the heart of town? do you sleep at 4 AM? are there wild clovers growing on your lawn? can you tell me where you leave her when you come walk up my stairs? do you drink beer? do you follow him home? do you cry about it?
acacia Jul 7
In an attempt at feeling you, my Libra; (x)
I'm missing you, poor cobra. (a)
I never realized the synchronicity between my rage against all libras
and my misdemeanors on your soul; (x)

you judgemental ****. (t)

It's alright, we have moved along,
I'm sure you've found somebody else. (a)
Send me a letter (with your stamp); put a postcard in my mailbox. (x,a,t)
I'm older and wiser now; (x,k)
we can see each other and I can let you follow me
into my high altitudes. (t)

If you want to. (x)
acacia Jul 7
Postured up high
green vertical sign
vertical is blue
after green comes blue

He takes it in all night
sipping from a cursed chalice
pull down your armor
show the world your undergarments
take off your hidden charms

Drag a sword across the way
stab them in the chest
they pray to your name
they pray you find their way
Uncoil your serpent
let jets rush through your ears
feel your soul detach, feel your spirit detach,
let this hole detach, keep your spirit in tact

You'd look softer in moonlight
you, the God, calls upon Mount Lake --
you dip your mind into the "A-ness of A";
flail all of your belongings, they belong to the ground
everything is all natural, everything you do is a distraction

Contemplation -- is that what you want?
contemplation -- is that your goal?
Followers think you're their only true lover,
they lay down their kidneys for you --
pedestal, you lay on, above the matrix,
above the world, above (y)our citta, above the soul;

take back everything you say,
purge all of your thoughts: you never had to be this way,
your ghosts now lurk in your pocket, bees swarm your eyes,
they will never stop until -- don't ponder stupid questions like that,
don't assume I'm higher than you, don't you assume I grovel at you feet --

go to the planet of nothing, see what it all really looks like
grandiose can only get you so far
your arrogance stinks up your soul
this room wreaks with cynical fascism, the carpet molds
and your contagious bacteria grows

I will clean up your mess for you,
I'll bask in this narcissistic stench of yours
they take your pictures, they curse at your name,
they see you smile, they lick up your blame
I'd want to be your only true lover
I'm not a spatial thinker

You follow up the road to the stairs
to the highest door shrouded in white
Here,you sing in hymns and snowy tundras,
Here, you are clad in black
your skin is white as carbon
your heart is browner and darker and blacker than below

I burn down your trees
you burn down my city
they aid in your destruction
pseudo-knowledge is their best bet
you've tricked them all now

Get out of my castle
this could be Our castle
I'm ready for it right now
give me the Green light,
let me be the blue-black flame,
the flame to hold your white up high

O, my flame
I still hold your vision in my mind
the walks we will take
the grass verdant and the water trickling
down our steps
it's all there to remind ourselves
that we are interwoven with ourselves and
the birds and trees and bees
these bushes float above the grassy hills
Do you still love the fairies? The spirits
are nothing but our own mind, we are the spirits
in the garden, in our garden, in your garden

O, my flame,
some things will never change
some things have never changed at all
though it may seem that way
to our unseeing eyes
to our veiled eyes
we cannot see all colors, anyway,
so what makes you think that we
see it all? we cannot hear all sounds, anyway,
so what makes you think that we
can contemplate it all?

I will always be there for you, Ground,
to feed you and to water you
O, my flame,
the night-light breathes through
our trees, we walk the distance in the night
the rain won't touch us here
Do you want it to touch us there?

O, my flame,
swim towards me, swim through the fields,
swim through the meadows, swim through the air,
swim through the porous clouds, swim through the smoldering
smoke, swim through the smoke-soaked toads, swim in a knee-length
sea,
whatever it takes to get towards me, whatever it takes to get near me,
whatever it takes to fall in me,
say you are still kindled
Some things will never change
acacia Jul 5
He lied down and smiled at me. Whimsically. His eyes were halfway open, and words poured out of his mouth like the coldest water. “Read for me.”

“Read?” I looked down at the stack of books surrounding us. It was our personal moat.

“Yeah, read for me, darling.” He blinked slowly, the whimsical smile remaining.

I reached out for Miss Lonelyhearts by Nathanael West. I read the first page.

“Mmm, maybe you should read something else.” He rolled onto his side. His hair cascaded like a river of black matter above him. Fibers of waves, strands of silky straight flowed from his head.

My eyes hopped around each book, he watched me, ultimately landing on The Waves by Virginia Woolf. I’ve never read anything by her before, but he swore by her. Being one of his favorite authors.

“She was inspired by Joyce,” He said. Also one of his favorite authors. “This one reads like Joyce.”

I picked it up and briefly skimmed through the pages. The lights were low, his carpet was blue, and the morning sun was starting to kiss the sky. He looked so quaint here, a look of his I’ve never seen.

“Read for me, my little jewel. I love your voice,” He pleaded, but not with desperation. It came off as a light command, a command in which I obediently followed.

I read. I read and read, messed up some words, felt his warm smile, and read some more. I read twenty pages. I read it for him. I read some passages as if it were my own words, as if I was pouring my heart out to him. In half truth, I think I was. I know I was.

I stopped when I read about the elephant and the malarial jungles. I called out his name. I echoed his name again, softer. He was asleep.

He looked so soft, so rosey, so sweet. I’ve never seen cheeks glow as much as his did. The sun moved as the minutes past, and the clouds allowed the sunbeam to stumble between his blinds, stumble into the room, stumble onto his then-callow face. The shine lit up different areas of his profile, making him glow as if he was a god.

The level of attraction that rolled off of him overwhelmed me so I was almost projected out of my body. I pushed the book from my lap and crawled towards him like a baby. I was so drawn to stroke, caress, and touch his face. Burn his topology into my palm. I studied his face more than I’ve ever done, etching each and every line and curve and perfection and imperfection into my memory. My eyes moved to his neck: so pretty, so long, so mature. Yet his collarbones protruded, and from what I could see from the open-v of his shirt, his chest looked soft, it glowed, it was boyish. I was entranced by the way his chest expanded and collapsed. He breathed unconsciously, he wasn’t self-aware.

I fell asleep after some moments of watching him, letting the sun blanket us and the books cushion our traveling heads.
an excerpt from something im writing, based off an experience; noah and rosaline

this is prose i guess
acacia Jul 4
I tell you I am making a cake, and you laugh,
shoo the air with your hand, and take mine in yours.
"Marry me instead."
Jun 29 · 247
What a day,
acacia Jun 29
And as I did the Sun flew through my window, like a god in a carriage; its warm shine is on my legs.

It lights up the entire room. It's perched on the sill, just to say to me, "I'm here, it's okay. You're okay, you're here." It waited for this.

The Sun smiles at me. It tells me it's okay to look in its direction, to gaze at it. But I don't. I never do.

It tells me again. And I comply. The light, at first, strains my eyes, but now the Sun is back in the blue sky, like it never left.
What a day.
acacia Jun 29
you say it on purpose, i know you do
you think i'm open; you think i'm so free
it is all on purpose; you do it on purpose, you do
i don't like open spaces
how can you call this 'ours' when you want more?
don't say these things to me
une jupe;
Jun 24 · 161
Keep speaking
acacia Jun 24
He has a gentle voice today
he speaks with immense tenderness
the amusement in his voice has heightened
and the tension dropped
his tone is sliding into charm and flew to
endearment
he laughs at me with such an ease
acacia Jun 24
A straw hat lingers on the grass, blades bending softly under the pressure
posey blemished blue dress
azure blue summers
the trees cascade the dead-life outside
for only life can exist within this yard
this gingham blanket cushioning us
I’m crawled and cradled on you
your hands slide up my legs
my hands on your chest
your hand kissed by sunbeams
hidden under cool-shade of my dress
investigate beneath my collar and
I’ll gladly undo your pants
in the openly-secured space of your yard
where squirrels, bees, bugs, trees watch, protect and hide us
and bashfully look away from our art
birds will flock to the purity of our sound
rodents will gather around the stench of our obscenity
I hope no one’s watching, but if they are, what does it matter?
let them see the disheveled hair
in love, in this heat, it is only fair

they won't know about my *****'s bruises of you
they won't see my lipstick stain on your crotch, too

nothing else to say
a honeyed vision of a summer's day
acacia Jun 22
You do know you've touched me and melted through my skin,
my veins, my bones, my everything, my nothing.
I can feel your hands on my shoulders, on my cheeks,
brushing a curl behind my ear.

I feel it and it's warm, it's familiar. It's euphoric. Like I've orgasmed. Better than an ******. An honest-to-you experience.

You knew everything that happened, you saw everything.
You unbuttoned my shirt, undid my bra, unzipped my jeans,
wriggled off my underwear.
Your tender kisses everywhere on my body;
your tenderness raining everywhere ontop of me.
I held you, I held you. I loved you. I love you.

We were splendid, it was dark and dim. A white unbuttoned shirt;
you are already shirtless, with a black band around those frail wrist
of yours. It's the same white sheets I've always seen.

It's you I've always seen. I've found you.

My smile is wide. I've remembered you like the Queen and King. I've remembered these inches of you, I've remembered being you and you being me.
You are mine, I am yours.
This cloud has been lifted off my shoulders -- you lifted it, didn't you?
You soft, cheeky man. You know what you've been doing, you knew what you were doing when you sent it.

You knew, you've always known. I knew, I've always known.
You: I remember you. I feel your lips with my head pressed against the wall. I see your lips while my head is pressed against the wall.

Such a soft neck you have, a pretty neck. Light neck.
Yeah, that's it. She's gone -- I've forgiven her, and you, and me. And we.

It's over. I can go up. With you, with him, with me. With all of us. Life.

You did. You did. You were. You are. I love you.
acacia Jun 22
after I read you, after I read Much Ado About Nothing,
I firmly believe I have nothing much due.
I’m wide awake, (it’s irrelevant) and I’m here
speaking to you: speaking to you: while you
spill your fluidity of the chemical
structure into a chalice — you’ve never dared to think what might be happening right now.
you sing to me, (I hope) each spring to me, but you don’t care to see
what you’ve done to me; form
and memorize the tiniest bit of song;
please, write for me, write of me. I beg you.
it is how I stay alive: write of me.
you stay alive by means of the rush that comes
from my fingers as it clacks each key, the joy from my
joints as I scribble down your name in notebooks;
I write our initials in a tree, but that was a while ago, and in
that while you also saw a flying stone
that hopped, skipped across your natural river(eyes).
the song is on repeat to access the limited
time we have with each other, for I know
that you and I won’t be forever, but in the past (in the now)
We were, and in the future (in the now) (in the past) We will
be;
is this how you do it? is this how you manage
to capture every single image in your sparkling
mind? it’s wondrous, it’s dashing, it’s fulfilling.
you're fleeting, and your fruits give me the worst headache;
my eyes are rolling back into my head as I know
that you were inspired of me, by me, with me, because of me.
I can’t deny what I feel and can’t reject what I think anymore;
never second-guessing because I’m right the first time
(sometimes).
:') Bona fide version coming soon, folks. What is this overwhelming feeling I'm feeling from showing you something so personal like this? My heart is about to jump out of my throat.
Jun 21 · 154
Did it hurt?
acacia Jun 21
Did I hurt you? Like a calf falling,
were you hurt? Like a baby crying?
acacia Jun 20
do you see me? i'm trying on your shoes,
i put your best around my waist and my earrings are on the floor

you lay still in bed, i barely see you breathe
i loom over the cherry tops that leak under your pillows
egyptian cotton tied on your ankles

i drag you into the moon
sand trails from your ears and
gravel falls from your soul
turn the moon around, whose face do you see?
Jun 16 · 548
The Morning of a Cherub
acacia Jun 16
Not these nymphs, but you,
I would perpetuate.
Not these boys, but you,
boyish man. (Fresh-faced men like you.)
You hit me with your stubborn clanging fists, and I sit
watching you with my round doe eyes, and you stay
standing.

Your scruff burns me, but you keep
sliding on me. The breeze swirls around your ears, the leaves sweep
itself over your feet, the rain are flutes.
I conduct the ruins of what used to be, into the castle
of now,

I take some wild clovers
and some green vines from here and there;
weaving into the wheat, the wheat sewn into the doors;
the thresholds lined with sugar to keep you here,
lined with salt to keep me here.

You,
my fruitful man, gazing at me from your rocks,
(the rocks by the water, which if followed, would get pulled down deeper and deeper, until you've awash unto his shore)
penetrate me with your stoney eyes;
skyey you are not, limpid you are not,
tangible you are, my innocence you do not wish to keep.

You hold my sugar in a cup,
you drink from the tears of
my callow face.
("Too innocent," you say I am. You say, "I need to violate.")

You string your words on a ribbon of silk, and
your eyes hop from person from book, because they all bore you --
and you lean on your elbow with your chin resting in your palm,

with twiney fingers and veins;
you, my opaque man:
let me get lost in your waves, in your dew, in your fog.
You, my boyish man, my devilish god, I would perpetuate.
Was it a dream I loved?

inspired by The Afternoon of a Faun by Stephane Mallarame
May 30 · 134
Waiting for you in Italy
acacia May 30
Everyone has the most feral of dreams to hang on to,
to linger around — we stink of these dreams.
And I’m here in here, too,
in this painting you see
with birds huddled over the wall
and bees hiding in the bushes.
As for me, I am over the rainbow,
between this bench, and I go
through the fence;
my heart lingers here
and flowers continue to grow.

You flow and snake into my dreams;
you capture the poison holding me,
and you see the world for who it is.
You continue to kiss each blade of grass
as you kneel on one boney knee.
You don’t even bruise,
your skin is the most supple,
the most velvet,
the most intimate,
like a babe with eyes of entrancement.
Coil around my arm,
nuzzle into my vellum,
kiss the smooth-stone of my cheeks.

Taste the coconuts that crawl
off my skin;
coconuts orbit like you,
like planets orbit like stars --
and you don’t question it.
It is apart of your nature
and apart of mine
and apart of yours.
You coil like a tendril, a green tendril...
acacia May 27
You are too thin, you are too shallow; [it] is something so
slinky in your mind. [Your mind is only grey matter,
useless junk that floats around like wheat in the wind.
Nothing of substance lies in disrobed bodies, entering a shortsword
into a female body;
it's all grime and *****. You are choosing to be the **** We wipe
off of our window sills.]
"They" seem to take pity on you -- but pity is not from me:
I can tear apart your insides out, but connection will be missing
from your intestines, your joints, your umbilical cord, your sockets.

I might grab you, shake and toss you around,
but you'd still never change your ways.

Please, send me back into the grass. Send me back into my nest
made of twigs, dirt, and blades. I slept under grassy knolls and
laid my head on pillows of stone slabs.

/You/will never have enough (no human will fulfill you) (no money will fulfill you) (no food will fulfill you) (yourself will not fulfill you) ----
why should I even care? You're just my cross to bear.
You = every human on earth.
They/I/We = the deities who rule over the humans

Another note from Sahas. She's angry. She's defeated. She's a deity directly under Romslig Vese, he is the creator of "this" Universe that is mentioned in the poem.
acacia May 27
It's nice to think pulpy-love can be constant,
24 hours of all 7 days of your lost, nostalgic life [on Earth, of course]
but it can't be.

This identity is something I will never forgive Romslig-Vese for.

You bring White Campions to my door,
alas,
do you know what this putrid smell is like?

You never will know as long as your feet walk on Earth's ground.
excerpt from Sahas' diary. she's a deity. don't worry who she is. she is unhappy with us humans

You = every human on earth.
They/I/We = the deities who rule over the humans
acacia May 27
It's all now; it's all gone (the Freesia's have now wilted);
the stars won't shine on me tonight,
they will shine on the only girl you are preying for/
the only girls you would rather touch tonight;

the Sun revolves around every promise you've broken --
it has come to light.

The moonbeam gently leads me to see the Swallow, quaking briars, browning forest fires.

The moonbeam gently leads me to see
where I have to swallow my own disillusions
                              because it is "natural",
it is "human nature",
            and I can not and will not stomach this.


I will not stomach this --
why are you doing this to me?

from Sahas' diary --

You = every human on earth.
They/I/We = the deities who rule over the humans
acacia May 21
She’s got you tied, huh?
Got your tongue caught, ***** hung, and stomach in a knot —
she’s got you

[softly]
far away from home,
farther away from me.
My body floats as it waits
for you to call me.

[harshly]

You don’t even love her;
someone come and take this
dead man from inside me.
It’s getting on my nerves!
Don’t tell me to get rest.
No, for you I won’t sleep this off,
no, not even for you could I ever
sleep this off.


[softly]
I had a dream
of drowning in your waters,
trouble seemed to surround me.
I never knew why the month of March
had such strifes, but now
I know why to beware the ides;

[all together]
her body, her seaweed,
her grazing flesh across your skin;
don’t forget me, she yells across —
don’t forget me (don’t forget her)
forget me (forget her).
The ladies choice.
acacia May 19
I want to ride his waves,
I want to light His flames.
acacia May 15
Just like the ocean
I want to know if your love will run deep.

I always say water runs deeper than the blood
inside our veins; in my veins, I know you want
this, too. We both love this forbidden blood(heart)-
shift; 100% water fills you up.

Can you let me in to ride your wave? If so
stay close, don’t let go of my hand;
don’t let me get lost inside the blue deluge(.)
acacia May 14
If you’d let me, I would’ve
got down on my knees
to show you what you mean.
May 13 · 61
I just needed a word,
acacia May 13
you make me feel like a small withered rose
especially with the way you see me with your eyes
and even though your slipping through my fingers like running water from the Zarqa
and my feet sink into you ‘cause your fine sand


from the khaki colored path from Jordan —
you know as well as I do
that you aren’t saying it,
because you are getting closer and closer
to telling me you love me.

you make me feel like weathered wood,
in comparison to the dark wood
i once was — and He also once
hung up on me, the same way you have just now.

but my spirit tells me you are layering
your truth underneath streamers
and glitter and mangos,


i am feeling so spaced out and detached
because of my arrogant desires
and my selfish needs —
but i’m alright, and you’re okay;
you’re still one of my bestest friends anyway.
when temptation calls my phone, i never pick up
May 3 · 116
you got me gone
acacia May 3
and honestly
you look like a king
sitting on my chair, i’m honored
legs spread
eyes low
hand in the air waving without a care
waiting for me to crawl to you
and honestly
i don’t want you any way else
acacia Apr 28
Dripping down the mountains seemed
to hang the Cliffs of Dover;
falling under the tundra where all of the turtle doves go.
And I won’t back down, no, I won’t back down:
go ahead and charge me all you want.

Something silly slides down your pale moonlight skin,
something cool slicks on to my ebony coconut skin.

See my sun set curls? See my oven-baked twirls basking in the dry heat of the night?

So, I won’t back down. No, I won’t back down:
go ahead and free me all you want.

You sit and tickle your fingers down my leg,
I feel each and every goosebump raise, while my hair bears arms, and my heart
keeps knocking —
you always answer and show forever hospitality.


My love for you grows into
the most splendid looking tree —
it tastes of natural and artificial sweeteners;
you like eight packets of sugar,
and you like it when I’m three —
we’re a perfect match, you won’t be
leaving me.

I love you.
Apr 26 · 174
scrying
acacia Apr 26
there’s no use looking out, don’t look beyond
because there is no beyond,
look inside of it, look in front of it,
look there.
look through it
Apr 17 · 193
Etz
acacia Apr 17
Etz
Sometimes these trees look absolutely terrifying, in the succumbed darkness, in the shadows, in plain sight. With their branches shining smugly through my doors, my windows; the way it moves, the way it twitches. Something of these trees and their branches is watching me, and I feel their eyes every second of the living day, and in the hours of the sleeping night.
trees
acacia Apr 17
It hurts me more than it hurts you.

Rub the center, do you see that?

I am more attached than you.

This is why I won’t be answering you.
acacia Apr 17
Call me evil all you want; tell me your rawest feelings .
I love breaking your heart; evoke the mind within.
I want to see you crawl over the polished floors; be more desperate
come to me; come to her.
Adhere you back with PVA; basting stitch over your heart.
You must not want me then; I don't think I could ever relate.
Keep bouncing over there; over hill tops.
Did you think I wouldn't know?; my cards tell me what's on your mind.
You know I knew, might as well let it all through; wish I could hold your hand.
The type to write your name in this sigil; the type to write my name in grafiti.
Hold a gas mask over the air and let it resist; he [you. yeah, you] keeps the waves at knee-high [length].
here you go, again, obsessing over them when you have me; my dear, it hurts me more than you'd understand.
acacia Apr 6
i


felt the ripples of the waves and the blurred out lanes into my anatomy
and felt the seed and ate each sunflower’s petal all the same while you stuck your seed up into my own pink fleshy guts that pulsate with your bulging hand.

and i stood up with all of your claws on mine
and my paws rested on your hide, on your silver chest —
i give it to you, i give it to you, i give it to you.
i’ll let the spirits collide and hear what’s going on
inside my lungs, let them all hear the
thump and pound of our walls.

i


saw him behind the buzzing bees and the blurry swirls of crystal and motion
the same neon purple flooded my eyes
as i let you flood my insides the same flooded night on the dingy brown couch
in your brother’s basement

you know, i’m crazed.
i’m in a field of dandelions,
wild flowers, lavenders, peonies,
the wildest of flowers,
i’m gratefully stuck in a swirling
whirl of trust and the smallest of
daring flying flies.
I regret nothing! I will not be silenced! Maybe you’re not doing things right!
Apr 5 · 142
I call him Maracuja
acacia Apr 5
“I can only come to you in the smallest or biggest of dreams — I speak with you through cards, we were destined in the stars.” It’s what he sings to me.
acacia Mar 8
I look at you... and I just, I dunno, I want to know what you taste like -- but not in that way, not in the way you might want to. I know I shouldn't but it's the strangest urge to me. I want you to feel all over me. Stroke my tail the way you do when you grab a fish from a lake; dig into my skin with your fangs like you do when you bite into cooked meat; hit me with your fists the way you punch the wall; I just want you all over me.
Lujane yearns for Israel the way a dehydrated being craves the slightest drop of water.

good night
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