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I have so many passions,
But I contain no passion to pursue them.
i no longer have
clementine
the tangle-haired capricorn woman
made of fire and ice, skin like drunken showers,
when she smokes, its like she breathes in
dawn
for the first time.
no
cherry,
with soft skin like cream
off fresh milk.
when she smokes
dimples drown in her cheeks
and the smoke swims out
like dancers in the breeze.
no more
veronica,
soft voice, shaky like daisies in the wind,
spring grass,
when she smokes its a gesture of allure,
she invites a kiss with an
edge
     of a
          tobacco
                     scream.
je t'aime,
my wild creatures,
i will rage against the cold grip of authority
with the kicking feet
you know i have
until
we can rule over our little
smoldering town
and walk on
coals once
more.
 Jan 2014 Lily Gabrielle
Robb
If I were a sound
I would be the sound
of wind
forgotten amidst
the cacophony of life
but ever present
whipping through the trees
surrounding you
in the distant sound
of far away places

If I were an animal
I would be a mouse
quiet
so as not to be found
but living with you
in the wall
the floor
anywhere you won't look
I don't wish to be seen
so I scurry
living off the scraps
of my housemate

If I were a number
I would be the number
eleven
two thin lines
that are ignored when factoring
lost in the scramble
to scribble down notes
two lines that are
separate
but the same
and sometimes distant

If I were a person
I would be the person
in the back
head down
hair in my eyes
so no one sees
the truth that lies
in them
That I am
the wind
I am
a mouse
the number eleven
that I would be
in the back

But I'm not
because you put a hand up
to block the wind
bought a cat
to **** the mouse
were dividing by two
so didn't need eleven
and looked back
in class
and sneered
at the person there
You asked me where
My home was and
I explained to you that rainy night
That my home wasn't a place but
A time in my life
When hope was around
Faith still here
The gun wasn't loaded
And I wasn't filled with fear
I'm intoxicated.
This evening is magical.
But I cannot remember my name.
Who am I?
What is this life?
Who says I live while I watch others die?
I do not understand the higher power that dropped me here.
Why me, of all people?
Why should I stay here and watch others suffer, when I cannot do anything to help?
I just want everything to be happy.
It is Christmas morning;
I do not want gifts,
I do not want magic,
And I surely do not want snow.
I want peace on this earth,
And I want to know that death is something accomplished,
Rather than given.
Like a letter, of acceptance,
Rather than a letter of sentence.
I want the world to know that I love it.
I want all the people to know that I care.
I want the universe to know that I'm ready for it,
To take me away,
One soft summer day,
And to know,
Everything is okay.
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