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Endlessly
inviting,
the river
that flows
between us
flows everywhere
at once

our internal words,
warmed by
being
held for so long
are all at once
sent flying
into the open air

making a splashdown
landing into this  
deep old river,
we hear the words
in our unknown voices
for the very first time

all that we know of each other
is waiting now to be heard

as if this river was a room
and this book that does not yet exist
was open on the table beside us
©Elisa Maria Argiro
A faint wheeze
Running through my lungs
When there's nothing else to hear

I'll drown in silence
Without the sound of you
And find solace in death so near
Without you the poetry's gone.
It's always risky to love a paper person
He'll always look back at his Paper Town
with his paper personality.

Worst is: paper love can be cut out.
It'll feel good once you move on --
leaving and bringing your cut-out self back
together again.
"A rose by another name , would still be just a rose " T. R .

Sleep my rose , your load so heavy .
Let the stars wash the pain from your memories .
Your battles fought bravely .
Let the soft black velvet of darkness hold you in her arms , sing ancient lullabies to you ,
soothe you with her charms .

Let the moon gaze upon you , softness in his glow.
He'll guard over you .
Said he just wanted you to know .

Let the Banshee's wail warn anyone that dwell upon evil deeds .
It's not lightly taken , best you turn around and flee .

Now then rose , your thorns  now protect thee .
And as stardust begins to fall , hush now little one for I hear the Sandman's . . . last call .
Roses grow rotten
and die
from the inside out

So do people

You don't have to have cancer
or any disease
to know you're dying,
those who are sick just know
and are dying quicker than you and me

Words and being sad
eat you from the inside out
making you nothing
but a sheet of paper

Until it pours out your fingers
and you take the leap
and lie cold
in the middle of the street
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