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lanna-evolvedPoems
The dream was real Felt by the drops of a summer moon resting in its orbit I remember when your arms would coddle me at under silky sky mornings; gravity taking shape Let the patterns listen to themselves see what they see through their window eyes Let the numbers stand there be what they are in their bodies black brown white and unfiltered demonstrations when it equals soup and salad without a price for bread Let the silverware be tarnished and cups clinch only quiet figures hear When we gazed into eyes on cut up streets midnights in July thinking about our untold stories lightening August set off days apart I began with love, hoping to stay there I don’t want to leave another note I don’t want to leave another note I want a feather-bed to rest our heads on and make love You have no idea how much the burgeoning of reminiscence relieves me when it costs not one molecule to love to make us whole again and again It’s free because it’s there Feel the motions electric breeze like the wind sometimes it places us on the pane to watch us move holds us in between the spaces I am now in the scene of a precious transition inside and outside bream breathing in pink noise washing away all that was left that came before restarting the scene Once more is an opportunity for the bird to saddle back on its wings perch on the top of its one and only   and try again   saving what’s left of its oxygen a single tree meaning is without nothing   There is something there something there these feelings pared in our chemical reaction evolving in our evolution   Let’s agree that 1+1= 3 years and two turns into one squared Memories stay when they’re still there there is no erasing what has not been left undone in the kind of ink that makes a white board look sedated splayed out and painted   in the image of our golden chair leaving its imprint scintillating   unscarred; unerased Markers leaving their mark underneath the lindens in the back and to the right   We used to taste the warmth of ripeness in avocado green and lime juice press no more pitted seeds We’re standing there standing; looking from its new location coming from an alternative universe understanding ourselves from a different place Let the numbers stand there be what they are Let the math not add up in their bodies black brown white and unfiltered demonstrations of matter gravity taking shape Will always Always equal where we are
0
May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 8:53 AM UTC
Because It’s There
The dream was real Felt by the drops of a summer moon resting in its orbit I remember when your arms would coddle me at under silky sky mornings; gravity taking shape Let the patterns listen to themselves see what they see through their window eyes Let the numbers stand there be what they are in their bodies black brown white and unfiltered demonstrations when it equals soup and salad without a price for bread Let the silverware be tarnished and cups clinch only quiet figures hear When we gazed into eyes on cut up streets midnights in July thinking about our untold stories lightening August set off days apart I began with love, hoping to stay there I don’t want to leave another note I don’t want to leave another note I want a feather-bed to rest our heads on and make love You have no idea how much the burgeoning of reminiscence relieves me when it costs not one molecule to love to make us whole again and again It’s free because it’s there Feel the motions electric breeze like the wind sometimes it places us on the pane to watch us move holds us in between the spaces I am now in the scene of a precious transition inside and outside bream breathing in pink noise washing away all that was left that came before restarting the scene Once more is an opportunity for the bird to saddle back on its wings perch on the top of its one and only   and try again   saving what’s left of its oxygen a single tree meaning is without nothing   There is something there something there these feelings pared in our chemical reaction evolving in our evolution   Let’s agree that 1+1= 3 years and two turns into one squared Memories stay when they’re still there there is no erasing what has not been left undone in the kind of ink that makes a white board look sedated splayed out and painted   in the image of our golden chair leaving its imprint scintillating   unscarred; unerased Markers leaving their mark underneath the lindens in the back and to the right   We used to taste the warmth of ripeness in avocado green and lime juice press no more pitted seeds We’re standing there standing; looking from its new location coming from an alternative universe understanding ourselves from a different place Let the numbers stand there be what they are Let the math not add up in their bodies black brown white and unfiltered demonstrations of matter gravity taking shape Will always Always equal where we are
Written by
lanna-evolved
F
May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 8:53 AM UTC
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