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Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
candle wax drippings
pooled at the base of winter—
running to be free
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
a forest is cleared—
exchanged habitats for homes—
creatures roam "our" roads
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
thorn burred in my thumb
careful tweezers pick and pluck—
a spot of wet blood
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
death has never left
it's wandered through everything
waiting for life's chance. . .
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
an old age adage—
you know, I was young once too. . .
just like you. . . deaths next
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
Her eyes
are of nighttime skies
that deeply pool at the base
of a silhouettes shape.

Her form
is of the dreams
that the legend makers
should keep.

The way her hair falls down
and around her face
mirrors the waterfall
and stands in its place

while she showers under its spring,
time and time again,
in her elegance that has
learned all too well how to play pretend...

But does she know
the way back out again?

Does she feel the sunlight
that dries her perfect black strands,
or the way it cures the newly formed streak
that turns back in due time?

Does she feel the way
the rays caress her skin?

Does she know more
than only one way
to let love in…

A vast indifference is
a confusion causing spin

that an easily listening heart hears,
and with compassion can
put back in a safe place…

A warm embracing state
that no undertow can take.

A sorry call
when distance is installed,
and has well over stayed…

To be involved
with memories
of golden days,

which were actually
bright side
silver linings,

While on the inside
were filled with pain,
and the pressures
of the day…

But I cannot complain,
nor just give in,

nor ever give away!

And a chance
for gracious change
in all the signages
that cry out to be brave

in the face of all those fears
that have haunted like bad thoughts
over all those nasty years...

And if fortune does indeed
favor those who face their fears,

let it also favor those
who turn a wink
and a solemn covered ear,

So that they can try to escape
the horrors
that they neither want to see,
nor hear

...

Let love be thine guide
that's never so quiet
that it falls on deaf ears,

nor never so silent
that it ever becomes a whisper so soft
that only silence can hear.
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
ant: tiny being—
exoskeleton off to
teach paths to the youth
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