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 Jul 24 fray narte
miles
I'm so tired
so are you

let's talk soon

I kept the scissors behind my back

you hurt me till the very end

I stopped growing in 2017

what does it matter now
There's nothing
to recount
our story was told
long ago-  chronicled
in the pages of time
we are not as before
we have since
turned old and cold

that little boat
we travelled once
together
(you wouldn't want
to remember)
in every strange water
now lies in ruins
on that forgotten shore
beyond recognition
just like
out irreparable hearts
once so free and bold

the fields we traversed
our hours under the shady trees
we read each other Keats' poems
amidst the whisper of the breeze
the love-light shone
in your eyes as you lent me
the ecstasy of every kiss
you would not let go my hold

there's nothing
more to recount
there's no solace
to be found
our memories
have been buried
in ashes--
manifold.
 Apr 28 fray narte
k e i
swimming in pools shined upon by a hundred neon lights,
racing each other past labyrinths, really just stairs with never ending flights,
with the hum of playlists we created in the background and almost perfect sights
a spectrum arrayed over countless black and white nights
now our tracks rest over pedestrian lines,
waiting for the light to turn green
looking silly with the feathered, glittery wings strapped on our backs- this proven by the numerous stares people keep giving us
i could care less because you were in an urge to buy them from the costume shop; you said it was a necessity for tonight's "mission"
and it was all just so funny; you're funny
because the first night i whispered
“you up for an adventure?"
you just looked at me with so much hesitation,
as if i were a delinquent and you'd rather i leave you to yourself
but now we can almost be a platonic bonnie and clyde;
waiting for the light to go red holds such betrayal
because as long as it stays orange we can have more adventures
and we'll always get a glimpse of the first sign of sunrise
but once it turns green,i know you'd still go after her
that no matter how much thrill the night makes you feel,
how many graffitis we'd spray paint our own graffitis over,
how many new songs and mixed CD's we'd trade,
it's still her
somehow amidst the full moons and the waxing crescents
you're still stuck in the time watching the sunset and the raindrops gently come home to the earth with her
when you were enough to her
you're still stuck in what almost was and what could've been, what could still be; but will it ever be again?
you're still hers
you're stuck in the chasms she's unknowingly created
chained to her love that made you alive all this time
tied to her presence you long to feel again
and i want so badly to set you free but i can't
because you wouldn't mind drowning in a whirlpool if she told you to do so
four
three
two
one
light turns red, traffic halts
- please don't leave just yet
 Apr 28 fray narte
k e i
hey it's 3:56 am and by now we'd be talking with ramblings from our insomniac minds. i promise i'm not ignoring you despite the non reply to your message hours ago. it's just...it actually hurts when i think about how you'd never see this, us more than this and i'm more than grateful that we're friends but can we maybe try to be something more? can you hold me , look me in the eyes and try to see if you could love me, if i can grant you absolution, make the pain she left vanish? sometimes i think you might feel something for me too but i don't know it might just be the haze surrounding my thoughts. can we at least try? i hope you'll answer. call me back as soon as you get this.
-can we mimic two lovers and how they prove their love under the witness of the moon goddess?
atlas–
your shoulders
crack and crumble;
dust and dirt fall from
the corners of your
aching joints; you are
ageing like stone.
your body, quivering,
is not made
of marble,
but the fissures
like tree roots on
your arms glimmer
golden and blue
and green–and
you are forced to
stand still, tall,
sturdy; as if
you were nothing
but a pillar,
reaching up to
heaven, grounded
forever to the earth.
atlas–
the weight of the
world is an anchor
on the curve of
your spine.
shaking, shaking,
like the scattered
rings of saturn–
oscillating.
atlas–
collapse.
atlas–
crumble, fragment;
dream of feathers
and dust and billowing
air, and all that is
light and gentle–
and melt.
atlas–
loosen your fingertips,
let the world slip
from your shivering
hands.
atlas–
even stone
can turn to dust.
atlas–
disintegrate.
(g.c.) 12/16/16
 Jan 10 fray narte
lX0st
I will dance
And I will spin
Until the room blurs
And the lightless gaps
Between swaying bodies
Absorb my ache
And longing

I will twist
And I will wring
Dizzily releasing
Whatever still clings
To my depleting soul
And replace it with champagne

And I will dance
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