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Montana Dec 2016
Sticky sweet memories
cling to the side
of my mason jar mind

Like blackberry jam.

Berries plucked
and kisses stolen
beneath a sultry summer sky.

Nothing but sweat and
white teeth and
purple stained finger tips.

But now it's cold--
too cold
for blackberries.

I spread what's left
of the jam
on some dry toast

And savor the taste.
Montana Aug 2016
I’ve reached a roadblock
in this punch-drunk--

The exhilarated semblance
of warm-color happiness
is peeled back
like the layers of an onion
to reveal raw, pungent inexperience
sincere in frankness,
yet clumsy in approach

The blurred lines of
tender affection
and pious adulation--

The muddy waters of
passionate attachment
and fiery dominion--

A foolish game
for a foolish girl.
Montana Aug 2016
I am flesh
weak and bruised.
I am blood
dark and damning.
I am bone
rigid and cold.
I am flesh
soft and smooth.
I am blood
warm and teeming.
I am bone
strong and resilient.
I am flesh
and blood
and bone.
It is all I can be.
And it has to be enough.
Montana Jul 2016
Bated breath;
dry lips parted
to tense limbs
cold feet stamped
on wet pavement.

waiting on words
to flow
from a swollen tongue
with empty promises.

red eyes watch
with a façade of
jaded apathy
given away only
by dry lips,
tense limbs,
and cold feet.
  Apr 2016 Montana
Ronald D Lanor
stringed notes
of a river's breeze

in afternoon cadence

the wind's
wine stained lips

chant a tune
of lover's

and dance

to a seraph's
Montana Apr 2016
I grow up
but you don't
Etched in a memory
Bereft of ego
and adult responsibilities

I grow old
but you don't
Stuck in the amber
of a yesteryear
Forever fourteen
White teeth and sweaty palms

I grow hard
but you don't
Frozen by a lens
Nothing but sunshine
Behind bright, brown eyes
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