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 Aug 2015 Emma-Leigh Ivy
m
thank you
 Aug 2015 Emma-Leigh Ivy
m
Thank you for leaving me.

For every tear that fell,
I came to realize
how important my feelings are.
I realized I have
to love myself first
before I give my love to others.
My lips will touch
my scars and my flaws
long before my mouth touches yours.

Your world is full of
many intersecting roads;
I got lost and forgot my way home.
So thank you for leaving me.
I'm home.
We are the ones who feel
almost everything.

Squeezed like sun-warmed
wine grapes, pressed
like fragrant coffee beans,
distilled like kilos of flowers,
may these memories of our lives
become good poems.
To you, my new family,here in this international place for poets, and always, to Eliot York, for building it.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
Holy River,
to see you
flowing
is to see
Brahman,
with eyes
fully open.

Plunging
into your
sacred self
is to be
forever
embraced,
Ma Ganga.

Torrents of
hard karma
came soon
thereafter,
like a curtain
of biting hail.

Searing pain
of surgery,
and doomed
love, nearly
choked me.

In all that
time, and
beyond
conscious
memory,
my body
was carried
upstream
in your
loving arms,
forever
protected
in you,
Ma Ganga.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
it's 3am
and shots of cheap tequila
are running through
my veins
maybe after
one more drink
at least for tonight
I'll forget
your name
this is for every conversation where I hesitated
and each instant I second-guessed myself
for all the moments that should have been
and every "what if" that I've over-thought
I've lost so many opportunities
from choosing to say nothing one too many times,
and what I meant hid behind closed lips
so instead my silence spoke too loud
but hopefully you're listening now
and these unspoken truths will finally be heard
so this language between us of misunderstandings
might finally be able to be put into words
I think of you often
in unfinished sentences
and half written lines
because you give me a feeling
I'd almost forgotten
with words I cannot define
 Aug 2015 Emma-Leigh Ivy
Lake
you inhale and type you wish
for a body bruising sweat syruped
half passed lover, you've got
crisp greens, white shoes and
soapy molars and citrus skin

my lover and I are young and have
nothing of you, ankle deep pools
of puddled people, we have none
at the dinner table but each others
faces at the silver Saturn plates
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