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Ellen Joyce May 2015
You plant kisses like spring bulbs in the curve of my neck;
I meld into you -
sinew and bone flows into blood pulsating in every caught breath
as the tip of your nose grazes my ear;
I love you nips playfully at my lobe
turning me into you like a jewellery box doll -
that slow pirouette to the tune of you and me and us.
There lies waiting room silence and you wash I’ll dry in your eyes
causing me to shiver as your fingertips trace the curve of my hips
to the rhythm of your hand in mine, fingers interlinked.
You breathe me like Christmas morning and mumble my name in your sleep
and I watch longing to kiss the twitch in your lips when your dreams turn to dark.
Ellen Joyce Oct 2014
October falls like blood pressure
on scalding dead sea afternoons
making driftwood of bodies
and all struggle futile.
This is the amber blaze;
the penetrating hues of oranges and yellows
blurring to bright white noise against
the barking of trees stripped bare
to the cacophonous scent of feathers and fire.
The autumn sky hauls tight its purse strings,
drawing night in, wrapped tight like winter coats
cumbersome and confining – in decline.
The equilibrium tipped by a bandit callous and howling -
piercing pitch shattering prism till colours fall away like raindrops
and life turns back to black.
  Aug 2014 Ellen Joyce
Emma Amme
I don’t want to be touched in ways that make my insides turn to licorice
I don’t want you to hold my hand because it binds us to the public and you own me.
I don’t want to kiss in movie theaters.
I don’t want to have *** in the back of your car.
I dont like doing things that feel like a betrayal to myself
Every time our hands intertwine or our lips press together
In a half hearted attempt to rekindle the butterflies that are long gone
Sit at the bottom of my stomach. Dead.
When I fake *******, smiles, lies about how happy I am
I feel apart of myself tangle up
Making me smaller and smaller until im a ball of knots.
I don’t want to be anyones *** interest
Safety boat
Most important person because it limits me to what I can be to myself.
I don’t want to be touched in ways that betray myself and make me any less of my own most important person.
  Aug 2014 Ellen Joyce
Sia Jane
Never did I want saving
I realised; as thousands of moons
Had passed, in many
A long night,
That my saving grace
Was always myself,
Cast amidst a
Million stars,
Stood my Universe,
Night as inevitable
As day,
Sunset, as sunrise.
I never walked alone.
Despite feelings of,
Lonely, wanting someone
To very simply, hold
Because despite this,
Warrior front,
Is the child in me;
Peter Pan,
Wishing on the
Brightest star in the
So you see I never
Needed you to
Catch my fall.
I only wished
You'd allow us both
To accept how
We both fell.
Not into abyss,
But into the light
Of true life
& love.

© Sia Jane
  Aug 2014 Ellen Joyce
SG Holter
His Down's Syndrome makes
His age a tough guess, I'll
Say eight to ten.

Wide eyes on machines,
Ice cream dripping on the
Pavement outside the

Construction site.
I wanna work like this when
I grow up,
he says in

Young enthusiasm to a mother
Whose eyes well up with
Gratitude when I approach

And kneel down in front of
Him. So you want a job,
I ask him with a

Wink. He suddenly remembers
His ice cream and bites into
It shyly. Nods, glancing at the

Tools in my belt, the scratches
On my arms, the brick wall
I've been attacking with a

Wacker jackhammer. Nods
Again. Well, I'll see you in a
Few years,
I say with another

Wink, this time to his mother,
Who'd look her young age if
Her eyes weren't as tired,

But you can start with this
And get some practice.
I hand
Him my Stanley Fat Max

Hammer. His ice cream
Hits the ground as he
Recieves it with both hands,

Looking to his mother for
Confirmation that it's ok.
Oh, it is. She mouths a

Thank you SO much...
They walk away, his chatter
High pitched and fading

Around the corner. And I
Head over to the foreman to
Report that I lost my hammer.

Don't ever employ me.
I can work a good game, but
I'm too soft around little heroes.
Ellen Joyce Aug 2014
the expression was solitude
sadness so profound
it bit the dew of her lip
salt cascading waterfall
mauling dreams
until ashen confetti fell
Vesuvius erupted
purging passion
to a myriad of maggots
lavishing larvae like
a heart enveloping caul
cage chrysalis consuming
boring at the core
till blood ran black
and hope withered
beneath the longing -
barren in the dirt.
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