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did love sculpt me
into twisted form
she the storm
blasting away bark
to reveal form
or
expectations extreme
beyond the norm
causing the storm?
referring to love as she   as is often done in writing
So it's Summer.
Another part of me gone. Another seed swallowed.
Blue entrancing. Green hypnotizing.

These colors are wreaking havoc on my critical reasoning.
My bleached body shakes, sun singing shivers to me.
I dye it blue and my skin crisply peels.
Open my eyes, and again Green.
Green falling in my hair and Green wind whispering.
Green hissing stories of much time and plans unfurling.

And then the Green circles.
Please, not the round pools...
I drowned. Swallowed the Green it went inside.
Absorbed me and when the darkness spread it wasn't the end.
In the abyss, deeply drowning deeply dying,
in those Green pools floating.
A flip, a blink, a twitch.
Then Blue. My circles. My reflection standing.
The current must have brought me here to safety.
In the lapse of time
when the circles eclipsed,
between the
blinks
and
stares


I fell in love. Green love. Much to quickly.
When will I learn my lesson?

Washes of lashes ruffling of nails
pulling of flesh ******* the ground.

Green eyes
Bright lies.

Fingers brush lips.
Shivers whispers
Whimpers Winters

White skies
Closed eyes.

The ground heavy on my feet, I can't fly.

Green eyes.
Bright lies.

Holding another mind in my mind (I'm in love with it)
Ice glass shatters and I twist in the dark.
The potential! The potential!
BRIGHT.
LIES.
Love can strike a face, so deceitful when the heart has not been heard.
I wanted our lips as mine, your fingers in my thighs,
the heart in your chest and our feet entwined.
I stuttered and froze in time.
Satisfied with keys, striking keys.
Satisfied with paper of your Green eyes.
Don't ask about the depths I tread, but please...
how do you sound?

Invited to a hunt I'm afraid of what's hunted.
In that pivot point two lovers were united
leaving me with Green eyes.
How did I dive this far down?

You must have hypnotized me.
Love at first sight is like a brisk decapitation. So stop looking at me I'm headless. I have no mouth to kiss.
 Jul 2012 genevieve moncada
Helen
I was standing naked in the bathroom
when my Husband walked in
he only noticed that the mirror was
misted as his daily ritual began
He brushed his teeth slowly, methodically
while his eyes squinted at tiny lines
that branched from each of his eyes
but the golden glow from my skin
beaded with lightly fragrant droplets
of water paled in comparison to the
grey hair he reluctantly noticed as
he skimmed his razor across his chin
The sun didn't shine much that day
but that night when I accidentally
dropped my towel as we passed in
the hallway he lifted his foot to walk
past but then let it fall as he stopped
and slowly bent to pick up the towel
but didn't hand it to me, just kind of
gazed at me with eyes that backed me
back into the bathroom to stand naked
once again, I knew the moment he
smiled, the rain fell to mist and there
was a break in the clouds
 Jul 2012 genevieve moncada
Helen
Five years spent
nurtured upon
a loving breast
Twelve years spent
regimented
behind a desk
A couple of years
fumbling in the dark
For the rest of the years
you've held my heart
What comes
before death
is a
lifetime
in a single
breath
You were just standing around
waiting for me to forget my own tricks.
It's not like I was in the best state of mind
to be remembering them anyway.
I was holding my hands and bending my knees.
Swaying from side to side.
Watching a broken television from 1999.
(Wishing something good was on).

I know **** is artifical
but I still like to repeate it when you call.
I'm comfortable enough to *** infront of you,
but I'll never tell you those kinds of secrets.

My face is numb with fat
and whenever I try to talk,
my jaw breaks.
I can smell your gum with my eyes,
and it's delicious.

I'm screaming about religion
and telling you I'm gay.

Nothing is accepted,

and insults are just words without real meaning.
Sincerety isn't in the tone,

it's in the meaning.

I want my ideas to stand out
but I hate reading in italics.

Things are changing
and old feelings are fading.
Dying quietly in the corner
so as not to make a scene.
It happens to everyone

if you know what I mean.



I forgot how to write,
I forgot how to think,
I'm surprised I'm alive,
I forgot how to breathe.
 Jul 2012 genevieve moncada
Lotus
Bamboo sticks
Touching river stone
Producing echoes
To accompany the thundering
Of waterfall!
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