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  4d Lora Lee
Out of the jungled zones
into the blossom of the muse
touched on all unhidden planes
as the bitter sails are buried
and the surrender of the muse
breathes with aliveness
and the pale hues startles in flames
such love from the past whispers
arose from the humble seeds of glow
there is no more holding on cliffs
uncertain on the rocks waiting
watering the winds of love
How so I couldn’t hear you?
awakened within my being
shaking with unknown spasms
How so I couldn’t feel you?
as your songs enlivened
rising behind my fainted shadows
In love with existence and how it makes me feel. Suddenly, as time was running out my unseen muse brightened and my soul was restored.
The river in me
Its outflow of pour
drenches the gullies
makes moist
the sand that
graces your toes
I flow into your roots
strengthen your
pump liquid gold
inside your veins
loving your flaws like
you piece me together
adorn my cracks
with powdered metals,
still loving them for
being broken
a longing
I want you dripping
down my chin,
my thighs
when you rush through
me just like that,
the soothing aqua tempest
I have always
wished for
kintsukuroi-(“golden mend”) is the Japanese art of mending broken pottery using lacquer resin laced with gold or silver. As well as a nifty form of repair, kintsukuroi has a deeper philosophical significance. An embracing of the flawed or imperfect. Rebirth.
  Mar 9 Lora Lee
the stars quiver
brain a husk of puddled amyloid plaque
like grey powder edge
blossoming a slow disaster
from dizzied star chandlers

voice winged souls harmonize
in a citadel of nothing

the revelation of no - thing
at all
  Mar 7 Lora Lee
I distance myself from me
away I move a million miles
beyond the homicidal floor of self
and its narrow dead sticky
fly paper walls

away from chatter castrati
and miraculous mirrors
away from vanity and horror
and the voices of shadow

I distance myself from me
I step from lunary worlds and big blue marble

and I have only
a river of breaths
like transparent shaped hands
dominion of air
in a cage of bones
all petty fetters
Lora Lee Mar 2
just when the dust
settles round my ****
and the thud
of despair hits bottom
just as I flail
and swim in this
         soulless earth
soup of the lost
abyss of unbirth  
you plunge my wilderness
charred with remains
from hellfire
and we breathe
our bones lighted sticks,
colors rising in
angel arcs

Your rib cage
is open
for my tremulous offering
as my lips imprint
a crimson O
upon the earthquake
of your chest
I am still down with the
wrist **** sopped
                    by soil
arteries, bashed
split to the root
by verbal hurts
in a sliding psyche of oil

yet here you are
suturing wounds
with whiplash kisses
saltlick moans in my throat
You wrap me in gauze
through the imprint of your eyes
turn my cuts
into fresh brook
gaze upon my
deepest darkness
like goddess worship shrine

my **** is a funnel
for your whipped light
sacrifice ****** prayer
skinned to the core
all layers exposed
your lips slick
with the drip
of my bliss,
deep juice of
jungle hum
all is bared
we stop at nothing
paint our tongues
with tears
adorn the face of death
with ripe guava
and, as you scream
my name into
a blown glass whisper
my soft, tender fruit
falls into
the heat of
          your palm

in distance
a tender
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