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Kvothe 17m
A light
is struck
in highland heights,
and the vista
***** in
whispy smoke.
Tire-track clouds
distort, tickled
by the fleet
embrace of
such a
fickle vapour.
I pollute
clean air,
and lungs,
with my crime.
But
at the cusp
of mountain
and mist
I contemplate
home,
and how
I do not
miss it.
Not a bit.
My tongue
and senses sear,
and I,
at least,
am unclouded.
On smoking a cigarette up a mountain
Kvothe Dec 2020
Memories of you
are dust-specks in sunbeams.
Capricious ghosts that flicker and dance

in warm liquid gold.
Elusive and volatile. Liable to cascade at a
glance.

In time they will settle. I will not,
for a while.
I will sit with ghosts. I will let them dance.
Kvothe Dec 2020
Quick,
quit your cage of crystal screens,
the virus here has came and been.
Seek trees with vines in times of need,
and see Sol
speckle kisses
on crisp new leaves.
Shake the dark rough hands of boughs and bark,
make them whisper the
histories of the parks.
Heed birdsong's swell, find dark clouds part,
as the timid breeze breathes
Earth's kinder art.
Let rocks and twigs crunch underfoot.
Free thoughts,
and give
that
life is good.
optimistic?
Kvothe Nov 2020
Stardust complexities
s
       h
i
       m
m
       e
r
out in golden blue.
The exacting clockwork of the cosmos ticks
ponderously
in Kepler seconds.

Chronology here is kept by
the
pendulous
sway
of
planets.

Aeons as minutes.

We are just dust
on the gears.

Galactic flecks,
swept up
in the filigree pirouette of an
astronomical timepiece.
Here, but not here.
Q        .
.        U
A        .
.        N
T         .
.        U
M        .
and fleeting.
Feedback would be great!
Kvothe Apr 2020
A clipped voice,
slips noise-
lessly
into
the fray.

Yellow
and shaky.
Bland, I know.
I hate to
Say.

Butterfly
in a storm,
normally deep.
I crack,
lacking wingspan.

Headcave retreat.
Feet save
my mouth.
Because the wrong
thing ran.
How public speaking feels
Kvothe Apr 2020
Delirious morn
Scornful of the rising sun
Someone, water, please
Kvothe Apr 2020
You are tea,
serene in your surroundings.

                                                               ­                                        I am coffee,
                                                                ­           attention always bounding.

Your colour milkish pale,
creamy optimism.

                                                               ­                              I am taken black,
                                                                ­                                bitter cynicism.


Two sugars,
to match your disposition.

                                                               ­                                     None for me,
                                                             ­       I'll maintain my grim affliction.


                                               We differ so much,
                                                     it's obscene.
                                                  
     ­                                              But in the end
                                               we're both caffeine.
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