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 Nov 2012 Lucy Tonic
Nick Durbin
The cold distance between two hearts,
Once beating simultaneously, in unison -
A small disconnection,
A simple malfunction,
Unforeseen miscommunication amidst unvanquished certainty -
Muzzled, tightened grip,
Cloaking an angst shell of a body,
Harvesting repressed emotions,
Alluring a passive tongue -
Releasing an outpour of an outcry in an outburst,
Retribution -
Freedom released from with-in,
Healing of a contorted soul...
Commence.
Moonlight, daylight
Time in all my days
Light the fire of the hearth
Crease the wrinkles in my space

Moonlight, daylight
Hope in the sparkle of dreamland
Take me to the seams of time
How far my sight will span

Moonlight, daylight
Pull in the shores of memory
Mirror me in the ocean
Take all the weight I will carry

Moonlight, daylight
Grasp of night in sound
Eclipse my soul of division
To what chains we are bound

Moonlight, daylight
Spear the winds of spice
In my heart of yesterday
Time can wane the price

Moonlight, daylight
Speak in all ways of life
Choke on wishes of longing
We watch the sunset
in daylight.
© Helios Rietberg, May 2011
 Oct 2012 Lucy Tonic
Hallie Bear
White to black
Bleached bones to charcoal
Burn me from the inside
Internal inferno
Drawing out the sun from my
Wretched lungs
Smoke pours from my torn larynx
Second hand smoke
Ruins you too.
To Sam W.
Is there a kind war?
happy dying star?
Isn't love without sacrifice-
a rose devoid of scent?

A deep realization,
that perfection is the
fragrance of resonating hearts-
can sustain bond; love would burn
even in times of intense pain,
then we would forget,
anything that would come between.

When I began the walk, down the path of life,
you joined hands without knowing what to ask,
what is that awaits us, how would we  know,
taking your hand, I vowed,
everything is for you till the end,

The winds may change,
the path could be strewn with thorns,
fraught with adversities,
in this journey we may falter, even fall,

I know this in my heart,
still you'd whisper soft:
"we were united by sacrificial fire
how could we ever separate?"
a Vedic right passed on to us
through millennia, we still embrace,
Can just a chant be that magical,
make hearts meld together?

Am I limiting my chances , of pain
by putting a blind on your eyes?
Even if I tell that you won't take it
not even  for a moment.

*Every time your eyes flood,
your lips tremble like dragon flies,
a stab in my heart I feel, it bleeds,
I hold your hand,tight
I hear my lips whisper
" Sacrificial Fire is our witness"
Fire on the alter is the witness of Indian marriages
Butterfly caught in a fine web, fell in love with a beam of light,
only to make the reluctant dark night jealous,
streaming light couldn't even sense her presence,
*she was a recalcitrant dance, at once gorgeous and fierce,
To whom it may concern:

Is that appropriate? Have I made this too impersonal too soon? Nameless lover, what do I call you (thee?) these days? I never knew that the letter M extended to the word “who” could be so detrimental.

II
Nameless lover,

Have I forsaken myself? Is love without means? Can I live within my means? What does a broken heart mean? Does that mean, that I’ve seen, the other side of the fence thought green? Maybe I’m in between.

III
My rose,

As I comment on your perfection, I realize that this is a love thought wild. To be more specific: Wilde. Words spoken on soft lips, I tell you you’re perfect. To which you reply, “I certainly hope not. That would leave no room for development.”

IV
Dear friend,

I’ve written this letter countless times. From beginning to end, the words I write are the ones that keep my tongue tied. Is it not possible for me to let myself be intimate? Am I a man carved from stone; indestructible, but kept below the ocean waves, which conceals my longing to wash up on shore? Resuscitate me. For as much as you take my breath away, can our parted lips refrain from talk, and is it possible for us to speak in tongues? I look at your delicate hands, and see my fingers enclosed in yours. I glance at the small of your back, and see my hand placed upon it, guiding you through the crowd. I see your eyes close as I kiss your forehead. I see us.
Am I selfish? Are you? Is this a misinterpreted love?
No. No, this is a love that I welcome you to share. This is a love that is impossible to embellish.

V

There is this misplaced honesty. To clarify: An honesty, that isn’t untrue, but spoken through hormones. That is what initiates complications with the opposite ***. Or people develop feelings at the wrong time. Or people never speak their feelings. As much as people like to say that it isn’t a game, it is. *** is ***, but then again, it’s not. Beyond the attraction, it’s realizing how that person changes your life. There is nothing comparable or even remotely relevant to the impact of loving someone and having that love returned. But, to be fair, there is nothing like the look across the room, and meeting a stranger’s eye, and both sets of eyes squinting in mutual thought of lust.
Affection and pain share the same gesture: the squint of an eye.

Closure (Civility)
Sitting across from you, we opened up; philosophy on life, and our personal growth. Our versions of love were discussed, in detail, about young love and what it feels like as you mature; when becoming a better person can sometimes be selfish. It is done with the best intentions, but it still creates tensions that become even the more overwhelming.
The conversation was very honest.
That’s what a friendship brings, I suppose.

Inevitability (Afterthought)
There are always signs. People don’t always see them because they are afraid of becoming vulnerable. They know assumptions can come with the worst confrontations, but curiosity will eventually eat at you until your perception of people will change. You start to think trust has as much value as a fixed mortgage. The problem is that you can’t restart in life. Nothing is as simple as it might seem. Human connection and companionship will be the hardest expedition you endure in life. It is only something you can learn over time. If you haven’t felt a million emotions at once, you haven’t been in love. If you’ve never opened your soul to a person, you haven’t been in love. If you don’t know the color of her eyes, you haven’t been in love.
Her eyes are green.
Digging through your tangles
I see how shallow my roots are.
Who crafted this button,
As if for me...
Random,
I question this...
Why are their so few of us,
And what constitutes acceptance into this cult?
How did I get in, was it just that I didn't leave?
Random,
Like the swell of fresh faces each evening,
However much vitriol or saccharine needed to be purged,
It takes a poet to write well.
It takes a mad man to wish to write each day.
It takes a mad poet to write well each day,
I guess you could say
There is a no sane poets clause.
Random,
Thoughts sparked thoughts,
Yet, not random,
All interconnected.
I couldn't find the bottom of this place if I tried...
My roots are far too shallow.
The whirlwind dance of your love drunk words,
soft whispers in my frenzied dreams,
a palpitating heart, blurred eye sight,
just a mirage, was it? a mere make believe?

I wandered on the beach, brooding and desolate,
waves didn't dance, in anguish crashed against the shore,
melancholy dusk, whimpered in languid wind's voice,
*I winged back, a lone bird, lost the way to its love...
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