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Let me tell you again about the dream I have where I wake up in a bed across the Atlantic.

The dream where you are settled on my skin, still asleep.

You are all lips and freckles.

In this dream you speak before you wake and you tell me, “hold my hand, hold my hand,” and your voice to me is like god ****** gospel.

When they open, your eyes are not your eyes—they are more like the only navigable sea I’ve ever known, and you’re looking not at me, but past me.

The dream where the air around us thickens and I reach out a fingertip, but when I touch you I go right through you.

Our skins ripple and move in waves as we fade into shades of cerulean that soak into the sheets, disappearing like bathwater.
I heard this all from the grapevine,
curiosity killed the cat…
so… seems unlikely that my dog killed your chickens
just give the poor dog a bone
it's pretty much genetics
all that nature versus nurture
even he makes mistakes…
let's let boys be boys
bygones be bygones
you should always love your neighbor
I know you eat chicken too
we can't be having the *** calling all the kettles black
you know what they say?
If you can't beat 'em,
                                          join 'em.
My dog killed all my neighbors chickens…. not a good way to make new friends.
Whisper me sweet nothings of time melting away these regrets
Or how time itself melted away all these months and years apart
Assure me that the years have dulled these memories, diluted their potency
Lie to me and tell me these memories have faded or that time heals all

Time, the biggest liar of all,
Taking memories and simply aging them in oak barrels to be sampled like a fine whiskey with a cigar or a side of regret

Time doesn't heal a **** thing,
It makes tragedy tolerable,
Like soldiers desensitized to the smell of death and rot

Time can't heal a story whose happy ending can never be written as intended,
It can only lend itself so that the story may be rewritten.
Let's just run away together,
Just for the weekend.

Go to the beach and just lay on the sand,
Looking at the stars.

Just forget the world for a while,
Cause I know you're in pain,
And I feel the same way.

And I want you to be happy,
Escape from reality.

Just for a while be with me.
He wanted to hold her hand
but his hands shook with
the memories of his childhood.
The musty room, clouded
with the sweet stink cigar smoke.
His father who stank of acrid alcohol
And a voice that rumbled like thunder.
The crack of the belt across his skin.

She wanted to hold his hand
but her hands shook with
the all too recent past.
The man who claimed to love her
but dragged her down the stairs by her hair
if she wouldn't lie with him or play housewife.
His bitter breath on her neck,
and the bruises he left on her skin.

Shaking hands, various pasts.
Maybe if both our hands shake,
We won't notice our own pain.
 Nov 2014 Shannon Delaney
r
snow comes early this year
in southern climes

- records broken


radio man talks
of a warming globe

- a broken record


seas have risen
many, many times
and frozen, too

- in southern climes


have I shown you
my wooly mammoth tooth?

it's very old.

r ~ 11/1/14
Unintentionally
Sweet to the taste
Her fingertips crumble
And she melts away
After just one storm
Dissovled in the rain

Inevitably
Hard to swallow
The flavor on your tongue
Masks the pain
Of chewing on broken glass
Until there is nothing left of her
But a few
Sugar crusted shards
If hers is a long and lonely climb
Atop her distant perch,
His then was a lengthy trek
Across the endless earth.
Inspired by sunshine and Nickelcreek. Always means always.
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