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Emily Raso Aug 30
what does it all mean when your balancing on a high beam
nothing beneath your feet. A desilt empty street, a black crows moan in the distance, nothing is real in this instance. but I catch the last serotine spark, and find a humorous thought from a flickering light post, a melonic sound from the birds on the ground. I repeat, I repeat, what does it all mean?
Emily Raso Jun 18
I am a compass for bad news.
An elevator stuck.
A crack in the pavement.
Staggered noises that pace along broken light fixtures in deep hallways, abandoned house at dawn, Trickles and flickers.

What has happened is what’s happening.
Past tense, pre-existing conflict.
Emily Raso Feb 11
I can see it through my third eye, reflections from the sunny window.
Inner mothering, is guiding me through. Nature pushes and pulls, this is true. I console the wounds, all knowing keep warm in my arms. I'll rock you back and forth, until you give it a rest. Broken branches, and a fumbling cliff rock, I shall allow you to fall. Displacement wasn't ever at all, which ever you reach, there you shall remain until displaced again.
Emily Raso Jan 27
Do something exciting, have an uncontrollable laughing fit,
and hope that scenic views distract you from all that is ugly in the world.
Emily Raso Dec 2020
Form your thoughts like disciplined soldiers
Steady pace, arms beside waist.
Bad vibrations, view it from a telescope, beyond flashes of light
Travel to the next destination, formation walking tight
I am commander, shoot your arrows now, time to fight.
Explosive and irritated wounds, it is all happening too soon.
Emily Raso Nov 2020
I am looking for something I cannot find,
So I asked fairies to grant my wish at night.
Replace what is irreplaceable,
my glass is completely full.
To hold a door open, undeserving of life's hard worked earnings.
It always ends up like this,
picked pockets, no sugar crisps.
A drifting paper chasing ' from behind, not again this time.
Going on, moving along, and picking up crumbles from your big plate.
Emily Raso Oct 2020
Heart, blood filled and beating.
Lungs, fresh autumn air.
Inside, I am never reluctant to memorize your fine lines.
I hear a distant ring, slowly getting louder
the sound of you, on a continuous loop,
circling around a wooden wheel with country side view.
I allude to discussing the future you.
Blue eyed, smile lines, and softened skin.
I trace our constellations,
you are a destination within,
I thought I would not need.
I cannot help it, if only I could bury my thoughts deep.
But you’re a sunflower, a succulent, and an oak tree
Flourishing like weeds that grow between cracks in the concrete.
Roots twirl around my feet,
I feel your twigs branch out engulfing every part of me.
But I’ll let you grow along my curves.
You are defining odds. A perfect catastrophe
A pleasant hurricane, and a tsunami of love.
I am an architect who constructed the strongest of walls,
collapse my blue print,
I am ready to fall.
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