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  Feb 2021 Jessica Lofts
Diadem of dreams keep him keen,
In the lost world we walk,
We debate the last Holocene,
Then we split, came the fork…

Lonesome fingers, slip emerald thread,
I stare yon window,
Knitting some spell, helps me forget,
Drink lavender tea to grow.

It tasted bitter in the Winter,
So sweet when in summer,
Lukewarm come last November,
I can’t drink it no more.    
They call me Lavender, loved ones,
You tried to debunk why,
Until you kissed me under the sun,
Love can make you so high.

The day you picked my last flower,
I was not a maiden,
You took from me ancient power,
My heart simply waned.

I took to the stars, took to the cards,
I became the Hierophant,
I looked to my sun, to my Mars,
To my Moon and Venus.

I’m imbued with the Crone’s wisdom,
With a new mindset so,
To understand conflicts new and old,
I’m healed, stronger, a Being of Amour.

Speak with me, drink flowery tea,
On the phone, speech may hurt,
Together, it’s ten times as sweet,
Call me, Lovely Lavender X
  Mar 2020 Jessica Lofts
red wine
stained our lips,
with clumsy hands
tracing moonlight
on your skin.
our love got sweeter
with each stolen kiss
and in those moments
i knew,
i would follow you
to any ruin.
- all i could breathe was you.
  Dec 2019 Jessica Lofts
Sehar Bajwa
just because the star-
fish can grow its arms back does
not mean it didn't hurt.

even though scars heal
and wounds fade it doesn't mean I
will forget the pain.
  Nov 2019 Jessica Lofts
my parents taught me
opposites don’t just attract
they also connect

  Oct 2019 Jessica Lofts
The moon has become a dancer
at this festival of love.
This dance of light,

This sacred blessing,
This divine love,
beckons us
to a world beyond
only lovers can see
with their eyes of fiery passion.

They are the chosen ones
who have surrendered.
Once they were particles of light
now they are the radiant sun.

They have left behind
the world of deceitful games.
They are the privileged lovers
who create a new world
with their eyes of fiery passion.
  Oct 2019 Jessica Lofts
Madison Greene
I like to dance in the light of all the fires I started
just so the flames can wince at the sound of my laughter
just so what once burned me can see me now
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.
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