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I don't know what it is
about bringing god into the most intimate times of your life,
but I couldn't ignore the bible that was spread open
on your nightstand that night.
During the space between
whenever you rolled off of me
and rolled back on,
I was granted time to think about how I ended up
in this dreadfully exposed position
(literally, you told me not to put my clothes back on).
So I thought about how I had convinced myself
that you were as religious as you claimed to be,
and that this would be nothing more than
a simple movie date with a little cuddling.
But whenever you removed your arm from around me
and stood from the couch beside me,
I knew this was going to be far from it.
So I crawled into bed beside you
and felt your hands search my body in the dark
as though you were in a temple on a quest to find a golden cross.
And you found it,
radiating warmth between two stone pillars
that you couldn't resist digging your nails into.
And soon enough,
the walls came crumbling down
and you begged me not to make a sound
as you sank your teeth into my neck
as though you were taking a bite of the forbidden fruit
for the very first time.
And I must have tasted sweet
because your tongue shortly followed
to lap up all the salty juices.
But you were determined to tear the temple down
because you knew how sacrilegious it would be to leave it standing,
so you asserted your strength to the already crumbling pillars
and walls and heard and watched them fall around you
in all their holy glory.
But it wasn't until I was lying beneath you
in a pile of dust
that the bible beside me spoke.
The pages parted like the red sea
and the letters lept from the page like the egyptians
and I was shaking as though Moses himself
was standing before me.
But you didn't notice when you returned,
because your goal wasn't to build the temple walls.
So you climbed back on top of me,
rolled over,
and went to sleep.
The past is a funny thing.
At one point, it was the present.
It was the moment we weren't living in,
it was the minutes that fell off the clock like wilted flower petals
as reminders of precious time we'd never get back,
it was the sun streaking across the sky
like the shooting star falling towards the earth
that you never got to wish upon.
But we dwell on it as though it's something we can change.
As though we are capable of wrapping our hands
around those of the grand-father clock and turning them back,
as though we can glue the fallen petals back onto flowers,
as though we can reset the sun to the morning.
But the present, is a beautiful thing.
Because we are currently watching the clock ticking,
and the flowers blooming before wilting,
and the sun shining in the middle of the afternoon.
The present is the moment we are living in.
So stop dwelling on lost time,
And live in it.
 Aug 2013 naivemoon
don't kiss me in the rain
the cool drops of water
remind me of the tears i shed
when i thought you'd never return
so please, don't kiss me in the rain

don't kiss me in the sunlight
it's shimmering rays
remind me of the light you radiated
when you spoke the words
'i love you'
and i was too scared to mutter them back
so please, don't kiss me in the sunlight

don't kiss me in the shadows
the crawling darkness
reminds me of the dark hands strangling me
when i tried to keep my depression a secret
so please, don't kiss me in the shadows

don't kiss me beneath the moon
it's brilliant contrast from the dark night sky
reminds me of how small and alone we are
and how alone i'd be without you
so please, don't kiss me beneath the moon

don't kiss me under the old oak tree
there were lovers once hung here
and souls that weeped from pain
their memories perpetrating our beings
almost making me wish
i had never met you at all
so please
just don't kiss me at all
 Aug 2013 naivemoon
the glimmering water
caught my reflection
as i sat by the silent fountain
distraught by the knowledge
that the boy that i loved
sat half a hundred miles away

to my surprise
that mysterious boy
(the one with the pale blue eyes)
emerged from the sunlight
a rusted copper penny in his hand

enclosing the penny in my palm
those oceans in his eyes
met mine for a second
as if to urge me
to make my wish

my mind went numb
my hands quivered slightly
my heart pounded in my breast
as i forgot my wish entirely
lost in those oceanic eyes

so i merely flicked the empty penny
into the mirrored fountain
and saved my wish for another day
as it shimmered beneath the surface
with what i thought held no wish

one week passed as here i sit
side by side with the mysterious boy
(the one with the pale blue eyes)
my heart no longer flutters
for the boy half a hundred miles away
but for the one who's shoulder
caresses mine

it's odd how wishes work
 Jul 2013 naivemoon
Thomas Wolfe
Oh, will you ever return to me,
My wild first force, will you return
When the old madness comes to
Blacken in me and to burn
Slow in my brain like a slow fire
In a blackened brazier - dull
like a smear of blood,
Humid and hot evil, slow-sweltering
up in a flood!
Oh, will you not come back, my fierce song?
Jubilant and exultant, triumphing over
the huge wrong
of that slow fire of madness that feeds
on me - the slow mad blood
thick with its hate and evil, sweltering
up in its flood!
Oh! will you not purge it from me -
my wild lost flame?
Come and restore me, save me from the
intolerable shame
Of that huge eye that eats into my
Naked body constantly
And has no name,
Gazing upon me from the immense and
Cruel bareness of the sky
That leaves no mercy of concealment
That gives no promise of revealment
And that drives us on forever with its
lidless eye
Across a huge and houseless level of
a planetary vacancy
Oh, wild song and fury, fire and flame,
Lost magic of my youth return, defend
me from this shame!
And Oh! You golden vengeance of bright
Not cure but answer to earth's wrong
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