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Standing on opposite hemispheres
The view was ever so different.
He said, “Let me show you the sun”
But all she could hear was his voice
And its whispered golden promises
In her silver moonlit ear.

Patience turning time
In planetary pirouettes
Blinded, blinded…
But finally, to see!
Infinite white sands
And where was he?
She tried her best
To grow the wings he wanted
And where was he…

A massive pair of wings they were
Impressive, as the dragons fly
Made of shining leaf and dreams
Collected from a glowing sky
Constructing tomorrows from memories,
She found herself.

Then suddenly,
A golden voice out of silence,
Muffled and confessing from closeby,
Head held in hands,
Hands scratched from digging inside
“I’m sorry
That I have not been perfect to you.”

She lifted his head
And kissed his scars.
“I never asked you to be.”
there is a girl who lives inside my bones
she hibernates in my heart
she burrows beneath my ribcage
[she tears and claws to escape]

her eyes cut through me like knives
her fingers play the same two chords
my veins are her keys
[she whispers into my ear as i sleep]

she has tiny bird bones
and she keeps the salt underneath the bed
it takes longer to make the monsters leave our body
[but they always do]

she never comes when i am alone
she appears at night
she knows she isn't welcome
[she stays in hopes that i'll run back to her]

her small hands hold me down
fragile fingers lace my throat
she won't give up until she's done
until my lungs collapse




and i erupt like a solar flare




*[and i don't blame her]
 Feb 2013 JR Lacehewe
oh me oh my
How lovely to have drowned
with people all around
and not a soul bear to see
what was it that became of me.
He is in love with questions
And the lilting world of words,
With the fabric of philosophy
And the taste of fresh ideas.

He is in love with the smell of green
And the shifting sands of dreams,
With the hunt for profound moments
And the hunger-lust for purpose.

He is in love with his books
And the zodiacs cross the planet,
With patterns of chain reactions
And the way we cog and gear.

He is in love with pools of stardust
And fanciful notions of theory,
With darkness, deep and coveted
And the fabric it is made from.

He is in love with one who left
And the poisoned past he bathes in,
With being perpetually lonesome
And floating twixt life’s sabulous banks.

He is in love with memories, and the universe,
And nobody else.

With my choking heart, I’m grasping at dust,
And I am in love with him.
11/20/12

— The End —