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Jun 2015 · 430
ii
Julia Dunlop Jun 2015
ii
On the surface,
these thoughts
as droplets
that suspend
and
evaporate.

Below,
the foaming tide
begins to swell.

Together
we sink
and
drown
in one dark
and deadly
breath.

Our tongues
are dancing
like waves at play.

It is happening,
it is happening again.

Our hands
are pressing,
firmly, every inch
of skin.

Every move leads
to  infinity,
to a sudden death.

And there is nothing
left to touch,
smell
or taste.

There is really
nothing left.
Jun 2015 · 264
v
Julia Dunlop Jun 2015
v
how strange it was
when the lights ahead
                                              were fading
and we treasured pure words
to get lost in the silence
Jun 2015 · 350
birthday
Julia Dunlop Jun 2015
Do not think black today
Think deep brilliant amber
Do not think of what
was left behind. Instead,
see the beauty there is
all around.
This is my wish
for you,
my love.
I want to see your fingers
pointing to the stars,
your soft olive hands
playing with the words
you gave me
Jun 2015 · 350
vi
Julia Dunlop Jun 2015
vi
for many days
you followed
me
as I walked
back home
and little
by little
I decoded
your signs:
the broken flowers
on the floor,
the bird standing
still at the window
watching me
as I undressed
slowly, tired.
I trembled and
so did you,
wherever you were.
And I felt it,
it tickled
a little bit.
I turned around,
but you weren't there.
And now that
I've learned
what I had to learn,
I will kneel down
and pray
for you to hold me
for you to stay.
Jun 2015 · 288
i
Julia Dunlop Jun 2015
i
I've held this love for you
like a wounded bird

— The End —