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laura Nov 2020
when you take my ring finger
bend it all the way back
make the snap as painless
as you go, as you do
lost in the blue of grief
and its instillations dilute the day
rain turned to frost through
a twig-crazed maze reflection
of a window imprinted by winter's traces
didn't have the stomach
the life, the wrist, the wincing
as you pulled my finger all the way back
ripping that ring you dared
thinking about putting on for
a commensurate second  
before you break
laura Nov 2020
uncharted november
past the fabrication of dreams
of a normal halloween
still thinking of how i never
even uttered a word to you
yet you arrive in columns of light
my mind, like a meteor shower

sometimes i do think back
in vulnerable moments
where nostalgia leads me by
the nosering
of cold time streams
and swashing memory
your face a fractal mirage
comforting and sweetening
the dream i'll eventually wake up from
laura Oct 2020
Too early to get caught up
in all these feelings
breaking quarantine
thoughts of you in your dress
thoughts of you out of it
I'm sorry I have to go
before I lose myself
it's time for me to put all my
clothes on and walk out
your door before you wake
laura Jul 2020
i thought i had a flitting hope
on a blanket in light i sat around
listening to your meaningful guitar
not hearing the words when i should have

however scary, however mournful
your hands full of dirt
making mountains as uncharted
as both our souls kindling in strange flames

i had callings long ago but they're not you
and i'm sure you have songs to write
but none shall be about me those are for
real people making passion, not a passing kiss
laura Jun 2020
thought it was over in a flash
from one moment kneeling
the next they're throwing tear gas
brothers and sisters fleeing the scene
my homie got shot in the head
with a blank and his brain is bleeding
keep going, acab acab acab
laura Nov 2019

I thought u’d come back
through draggled prayers
slipped away in the night
if god answered now he’d be so cruel—
thought you’d come back thru my dreams
slip between the sheets and blankets
hold my hands, but the romance is dead
by tomorrow, you’ll still be gone
not even the springtime will get ya back
no afternoon gently shelves these memories
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