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Jessica Lofts May 29
It is quiet here,
Except for the spiders,
Who encroach,
With the rising and falling,
Of your chest,
And spin webs,
In the shape of your fingertips.

I never know for how long,
Sulking in the shadows,
Will satisfy them,
My years of abundance has made them grotesque,
Spoilt rotten creatures,
With eyes too big,
And stomachs too small,
For the parts of me that they devour.

And love,
Do not uncover me,
From this,
The cold keeps them at bay,
And it isn’t so bad,
I’ll just let it hold me,
With my arms crossed,
Over my body like a child,
Like I’m waiting,
Like I’m ready,
Like a body,
I don’t even know if it’s mine anymore.

I think I’ll stay,
Letting the snow softly,
Eb away at my frame,
They say eventually,
It just feels like going to sleep.

So I will lie here,
Eyes closed,
And dream of you.

Oh, love, I hope they do not come for you.
Jessica Lofts Jan 13

The night is not kind to me,
Of late,
And I miss the way your body,
Sings me to sleep,
I am not one,
For superstitions or old wives tales,
But I do not believe it is a coincidence,
The way my head fits into your neck,
Or the way your hand fits into mine.
You have taught me the value,
Of minutes,
And when you kiss me,
I am in a small moment,
I want to last my whole life.

I used to think,
I needed a rein for my soul,
When she danced with the darker parts of me,
And eloped with my fast ideas,
And capricious heart,
When you first told me,
That you loved me,
You handed me a key,
And I realised all she needed,
Was a home.

I know too well,
Love is not easy,
For I have been waking up empty,
And been getting good at pretending you’re here,
But at night my heart wipes my tears,
Reminding me,

Love does not have to be perfect,
It only has to be with you.
Jessica Lofts Oct 2018
I think I need an exorcist,
To be rid of you,
Because you haunt my dreams,
And linger in the dark corners of my room,
There are doors in this house,
I will not open,
For fear of you,
I know I will see your face in the dark.

You’re a virus,
Infecting my bloodstream,
Spreading like wildfire,
And burning just the same,
A parasite,
Replacing the memories,
Of every time he touches me,
With your hands.

I tried to bleed you out,
But the scars on my skin,
Are written in another tongue,
That I am yet to decipher.

And I don’t think,
Anyone understands that all these years,
I was never trying to **** my self,
I was trying to **** the memory of you.
  Oct 2018 Jessica Lofts
Matt Shaw
Every road rises with the sun,
She does not speak of her decline.

My march is up one mountain
My fingers trace her spine

And hers trace mine--
Sifting creation with me
This way and that
Preoccupied, or
In paradise.

If only with air,
We're making ties.

And now, I really should go--

She's making eyes.


Evergreen, deciduous trees
Winding trails and crystal streams
All woven into her halo,

She's making eyes.
Jessica Lofts Oct 2018
I want you to stargaze with me,
Map out the constellations on my skin,
Imperfection to imperfection,
That seem so far from imperfect,
When it’s your fingers,
Brushing against them.

I want you to show me,
The galaxies in your eyes,
Maybe in them I’ll find a planet,
Where the sky is always blue,
And it never rains,
And at night,
When the sky glows brilliant hues,
Of orange and gold,
It will remind of the colour,
Your eyes look,
When the sun light hits them,
On an evening in autumn.

Where I can love you, truly,
Where your touch,
Doesn’t feel like his,
Though you are gentle,
And warm and safe
and everything I have never felt.

I want you to guide my hands,
Because I have always struggled,
To stay within the lines.

I want you to help me,
To create something beautiful,
That time can not touch,
Something that time can not  take from me.

A part of me he will never have.
Jessica Lofts Sep 2018
I miss you in the middle of good things happening,
I want to be kind,
But my heart won’t stop asking,
For more of you

I went to stretch my soul,
To the parts of the universe ,
That are not occupied by your name but just like your kisses,
They are so few and far between.
Jessica Lofts Jul 2018
I admire
The butterflies that follow you around
But I am more fond of my magpies
I will keep the 100 candles in my bedroom lit
Until I hear you say ‘I love you’,
Even if it burns my house down

Home always seems
To be someplace other than where I am
And I’m tired of having to rest my head
In an ocean and hoping I do not drown

Warmth comes in many names
But none of them are you so why do I
I hold you and speak to you and suddenly,
Living is fine

Hold a séance in my lungs
And set fire to my ribs
Talk to the parts of me I killed
I haven’t heard them speak to me in a while.
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