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Lorelei Adams Oct 2011
your scent
frees my skin
from the sweat
of a never ending
chase
and the rancid
odor of when
it all catches
up to me
Lorelei Adams Oct 2011
you
                 traced
              me
                              with
      ­                 your
                                          fingertips
       ­               
                                                 ­    while
                                                           ­         your
                                                   ­                      hand
                                                                ­                     slid
                                                            ­                                     d
                                                               ­                                          o
                                                               ­                                                               w
­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                            n
Lorelei Adams Oct 2011
I hate to see you hurting:
it digs its nails into my
throat and rips
my vocal
chords
and makes
me screech in
pain as I feel as
if I am helpless to
your misery and as
much as I want to hold
you and tell you that
everything is going
to be fine; I cannot
for my feet are
planted firm
in the soil
and I am
sinking
just
like
you.

Please forgive me if it seems like I don't care
Lorelei Adams Oct 2011
I caught you in the dark.
The reeds bending with my footsteps,
the wet grass chilling my toes as my
breath hung thick- close to my face.
I reached with the glass jar that my parents  gave me and caught you.
And closed the lid.
I took you into my room
-the place I'd never let anyone go before-
where you lit up the dark
and made shadows dance on the ceiling.

I kept you safe a snug in that jar
watching your controlled beauty light up
my dresser,
then my bed,
then my jewelry box,
and showed you all the prettiest parts of my room-
they got even lovelier in your presence.

but then You got out of the jar

And flew around my room- rediscovering
my dresser,
then my bed,
then my jewelry box
with a celestial freedom and a fullness I didn't know was possible.
And it was beautiful.

But then you flew into my closet
and under my bed
and behind the doors I keep closed
and buzzed around my ***** laundry.
It was ugly.
But I couldn't control you, and I couldn't put you back into the jar again.

While you lit up my entire room, my shame grew larger than the night sky looming on the other side of the windowpane.

So I opened the window
and waited for you to fly away from my ugly
believing that you would join the stars
not really how I normally write. I like how simple it is though
Lorelei Adams Oct 2011
If the wind is parch white
And the universe stops
And listens to the words
Shape and form on the tip of my tongue
Vultis nosse?
Vis sentiunt?

Could I chip away the walls that separate our bodies?
Medio claustra potui dirumpere animas?

It would seem foolish, huh?

Funny, how hurt is so heavy.
Funny, how desiderium clarius est quam amor aliquando

Chant these ancient hymns
And press your lips against the sound of eternity:
*et orate
et orate
Amo te
Lorelei Adams Sep 2011
and I am not sure if I want it to stay that way or
not.

Love means nothing to skin.
Lorelei Adams Sep 2011
Everybody
Always
Goes on and on and on
about
Achilles' heel
like it is some sort of ******* relic
of the Trojan war.
And no one seems to give
a flying ****
about the dude that killed Achilles.
But I am pretty
sure
that Paris feels accomplished.
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