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Water drips
timing seconds
one by one
light to dark
lay me to sleep
give me playbook as a pillow
cover me with old papers
whіsреr me headlines
breathe deeper
move slower
crawl closer
stay longer
discomb my eyebrow
grasp the wrong elbow
mess sugar with pepper
till the next season come
Dragonfly lights on the lily  
her veined wings translucent
morning sun on the shimmering dewy grass
seeps through seducing my eyes
drawing me in to this delicious glory.
Looking at a stained glass dragonfly plant decoration in our garden room I was reminded of one of my favorite poetry books, Ode to Common Things by Pablo Neruda who is one of my all time top poets.  He could inhabit the essence of a chair to make you think you were friends if not intimate with it.
Freshly ground coffee,
love wafts in the morning air.
Is it here to stay?
 Mar 2017 Kaila Sullivan
M Harris
Photochromatic Sanity & Fluorescent Visions,
Metallic Vanity Initiating Phosphorescent Collisions,

Luminescent Effervescence In Her Iridescent Constants,
Convalescent Spells Of Her Tumescent Transplants,

Auroral Apertures & Acronycal Fractals,
Floral Kisses Of Her Quintessential Portals,

Velvet Transitions & Twilight Transmissions,
Reverberating Vocal Inhibitions Of Her Satellite Renditions,

Razor Rivers & Rogue Delights,
Shining Laser Echoes On Vogue Nights,

Molecular Suicides In Abysmal Desires,
Drowning In Atomic Oceans Of Her Ethereal Reprisals,

Static Pulses Of Her Prurient Delights,
Amorous Impulses With Hymens Of The Night,

Shaded Whispers & Livid Overtunes,
Serenaded Ceilings In Her Vivid Offtunes.

Condensed Rainbows Over Her Silk Citadels,
Slithering With Oblivious Love Of His Ghostline Vessels.

Extinct Hemispheres Of Her Tender Tracings,
Broadcasting Distinct Light-Years In Spiritual Casings.

- 03:50 AM -
I lay flat
on the ground underneath
my warm skin I feel
the cold grass,
I sink into the earth as
we become one
while the first rays of sun
kiss my skin and
welcome me back
to life.
I started leaving the door open for you.
I started to write and live honestly.
Endless nights spent chasing
another song of defeat
across the ashtray
forgetting my own words:

you can create art out of suffering;
you should never create suffering for art.

I started waiting for you.
I started to notice the decline of my moods
coincided with sublime precision to your
tail-lights in the distance.
Half-drunk
I had forgotten my own words:

suffering may be borne out of love;
love should not be borne out of suffering.

I started leaving the door open for you.
I started to expose each sleepless night
and commonplace hangover
as a symptom of a malady
and not a way of life.
You helped me to recall

peace arrives once the war has ended.
For peace, you do not have to fight.
Written after a short-lived fling with an older woman who taught me a lot about the world.

C
 Mar 2017 Kaila Sullivan
Hope
Hope
 Mar 2017 Kaila Sullivan
Hope
A long dark tunnel
With slimy walls
A low roof
And places to fall

At the end of the tunnel
Shines a faint light
Guiding the way
For lost souls of the night

It's hard going
Staggering and crawling
With the sound of silence
And stench of something appalling

The light of the heavens
Flickers off and on
The only certainty
Of tomorrow's fresh dawn
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