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Anne Molony Mar 2019
A blue morning on the 46a to Stillorgan.
I get emotional gliding past the little orange town house. I've passed it every day for two years but this time it feels different.

I can smell your walls and furniture.
Can taste the breakfast you'd surprise me with after a long night of dancing and love making.
Can feel your head on my shoulder as you hold me at the kitchen counter. You were begging me to make you stay and the sky cries for you.

You kiss my stomach.

We drive silently. Me, eating nutella and banana toast and you watching the roads too carefully. You had just gotten your license. Fionn Regan played softly. It was our last morning, you had driven me to college.
Anne Molony May 2018
i've looked for you
in the eyes and hands
of every
Anne Molony May 2018
for what feels like  
the first time
(in a long time)
i’ve met someone

everything’s exciting

it’s thrilling

      to just
        be myself
          around him

i want to do nice things for him

i want to take off his shoes
make him tea
i want to draw ****** drawings of him
with sharpies
on napkins at parties

and i long to bring him home
go on long walks alone
with him
i wish to
write songs in his name
give him my earphones
(when his break)

we’re an
unlikely pair

             and there’s
                        so infectious
                               about that
it's not often
that we find people
who we can truly be
ourselves with  

allow yourself to
love completely
Anne Molony Jan 2018
two lonely hearts
      who mistook
            their pain
               for love
never settle
Anne Molony Jan 2018
Despite how
I feel now
in this moment
surely sometime
today or tomorrow
I'll be beginning
to feel the
opposite again
Anne Molony Jan 2018
I remember a day
in late November
when the four of us went
back to your house

"We'll watch a film"
Adam declared
you were sitting on the couch
taking off your boots

Beth sat on your right
and I sat on your left
I was close enough to you that
I could just make out the smell of
the washing detergent
your mother used
on your shirt collar

I couldn't concentrate on
anything other than the
warmth of your arm and the
Lavender & Spring Jasmine
of your clothes
Anne Molony Dec 2017
you can kiss
my rose petal eyelids
my stained cheeks
my humming neck
my willing waist
my burning skin
anywhere on
my restless body
but kiss my lips,
and I'll spend the
rest of my life
searching for
your stinging tongue

  fate assured me
   we'd burn violently
    but ultimately suns die
     every flame grows tired
      every bulb will break
      every wick will drown  
     charred and regretful
    weary and worn out
   drained of energy
  choking for air
i'm not ready
to ignite
just yet
it is inevitable
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