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i loved
you in
pajamas
and royals
shirts, black lungs
and black tongues and
windy mornings heading
to the train while you pulled
me along behind yourself in a
fury of cigarette smoke and sea
water stored in your fingers
i never expected us to be
anything to be apple pie
and an i love you from
your mouth in your
grandma's living
room i was
content with the
bit of you in chicago
i had swished between
my teeth i did not want
those coffee shop
goodbyes
i did not want those
coffee shop goodbyes
you made me into this.
Coffee house
windows drape
litters of faces
like teabags
milk white but
feature black yolks
in sunken pits--
sinking pits, dip
under the morning
embers. Sunny side
where? A day begins
though you lot, out
to dry, waiver it off;
It's not ours, you say,
It's yours and you's
filling the streets below.
We's wait for the sunny,
we's wait for the up.
It's like coming up for air.
Being tossed in a sea of romantic dreams.
Deep under a lovesick melody.
Thicker than air. Stress fills your lungs.
Gasping for truth. Can't see. Thought you'd  be free.
Hands dance, under a blanket of watery bliss.
Hair waves with the sea ****. You kiss the world goodbye.
Buried under shadows of memories.
Heart begins to reach.
You used to grasp the rocky beach.
Blue eyes like the roaring sea.
You stood tall like a tree.
And your hope grew fierce and free.
You were wrapped in a coil of fear and sorrow. You used to dream of tomorrow.
Eyes open. Body frozen. Vains shakin'.
You begin to fight again.
Mind takes over.
The rays of light break through the cold descent.
Feet begin to push the pain back down to that shadowy death.
The warmth of the grass and a flower head dress. Summer nights. And the pale moonlight. The smell of peace. That moment of serenity.
Now your being tossed in this raging scene.
Scarred body.
Pale face.
Visions of that place seem too far away.
Is someone retching in the stairway?
Or *******, I can't tell.
It's too early for the drunkards
who stumble in, yelling in whispers.
Fragmented Portuguese drifts in from next door,
too loud, even under the shower head.
They can probably hear my thoughts.

In the beginning we sat on the steps after dates.
Walked down to town
for good street food.
I would be drowning, going,
flying coming back,
as you stopped to kiss me in every bus-stop shelter,
drunk on the night, lateness
lack of sleep, and the act of trying too hard to love.
Was your soul once the colour of mine
Till you painted it over,
god knows how many times?
Or was that you at all?
Did I invent you? Did you invent me?
I close my eyes and world drops dead
I think I made you up inside my head
I'm sorry. It's not fair.
In the end you didn't understand
how free I felt.
I tried to long and too hard, slow fade,
for you, a bomb.
Weight and weightlessness tangled inside,
guilt, freedom. Guilt.
I cut your memory out of my thighs.
I didn't want to remember you between them.
I can't sleep, guilt is crushing.
You hold my sins before me like broken plates,
and when I cried
you said I was playing martyr, burning in lions jaws.
No, dear.
Martyrs are sinless.
I play at nothing.
Forgive me.
Old thoughts. Found an old journal entry and took some of the better stuff to make a poem. Long story short, I broke up with him, and he was not happy about it. *Italics from Sylvia Plath's "Mad Girl's Love Song"
 Feb 2015 Reece AJ Chambers
Molly
I need the nights
with you, and mornings with unclean teeth
making my sister bring my shoes to the beach
because I only have heels.
7am, and you,
shouting down the phone to your ex
"do you think less of me?"
but how could I ever.
48 hour days, I got dressed for the club
but just met you after work.
Driving through the night
as you traced out your life on my knee
and refused to stop kissing me.
You showed me how you diffed rings
after dark,
to blow smoke rings
we made love in three
of your cars
and never in bed, just drove roads
you worked nights
an end of summer miracle that couldn't last.
I'm having beer for breakfast
& you're nowhere around
freed a completed checklist
of my spine spiraling down
I'm queen
I'll eat you legless
your knuckles form my crown
through your deep breathing down
your knees become my necklace
and I'm pushing through your sounds  
it's the bed that's shaking now
but you feel it in the ground
your sweat has met the sheets
and through your bones
I feel you now
between our breaths
we're chest to chest
I fumble through your brown
with every strand tied in my hand
and both your lips against my mouth
sunspot
sunrise
sunshine
moonshine
i lick you off my lips like strawberry
                                             pineapple
                                             grape              ­    juice
                                             a fine wine that i’ve never drunk.

asteroid belt
orion’s belt
daddy’s belt
i am opening the door a crack for you only to slam it in your face—i am
waiting for you to knock
             to pound your fist against the gate
             to break your hand on the wood
                                 i am waiting for you to say that you love me
                                 and i am waiting for myself to believe it completely
                                 (i think you do but i am still afraid you might leave me)

((jupiter has 67 moons and i think that i might be
                        each and every single one of them)).

oort cloud
smoke cloud
the burning ash of my father’s lit cigar flicking onto my hands
i am awake at night and thinking about how you no longer taste like lung
                                                                ­                                       mouth
                                                                ­                            kidney        cancer.
my grandfather almost died of prostate cancer
my friend is dying of brain cancer
my father will probably die of liver cancer
                                                          ­ there is not enough space in the cosmos
                                                          ­ for all of us, is there?                   … God?

meteorite
meteoright
i am trying to sleep without your face in the back of my neck
                                                      hand on the back of my hand
                                                      leg tangled around the back of mine
i am trying to telepathically whisper my secrets into your ears
                                                       but the only problem is that i have not yet
                                                             ­  mastered  this  form  of  communication—
          i think that everything would be so much easier if i just didn’t feel.
language poem I wrote for my poetry portfolio last semester.
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