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Are you,
are you,
the one leaning on the tree,
the careless beauty,
your hair dancing in the breeze?
The Hanging Tree with a twist.
our love
is a record
the tension of the static
the clarity
clearer and more beautiful
than before
it fills the room with music
begging us
to become lost
in its melodies
your eyes
they reveal
a secret world
inside of you
i want to dance
with you
and whisper
with you
till the morning
 Dec 2015 Rosalie Marlboro
Klara
your fingers are like
matches
setting every piece of skin
they touch
on fire

burning all the bad
words ever said
making me believe
the words your movements
express
beautiful

it is weird to feel something
i have never felt before
i discover nerve endings
i never even thought
existed
but your fingers
find them
beautiful

our bodies
fit perfectly
as if your hands
formed me to fit yours
mashing together as one
beautiful

i feel it at every piece of skin
your hands skimmed
i feel
*beautiful
this has nothing personal to it I just wanted to try to put myself in someone else's shoes and this is what came out of it
I got to watch you dance with a fiery passion almost as rich and beautiful as your hair.
I got to look into your bright blue eyes, cold as the breeze that blows against our necks.
Our noses kissed, then our mouths and all was clear, all was well.
Silly Boy, you watched me falter in every other combination, smiling like a fool.
I leave without you, but there will be other times, other occasions to see my beautiful boy.
I love you. I always will
The Garden Boy has eyes greener than the grass that will sometimes be the color of the dirt too
The Garden Boy reminds me of a distant galaxy because he is so close yet unreachable
The Garden Boy spends his time learning about the world and dreams of changing it
The Garden Boy met my eyes under the full moon and his parted lips were saying words that he never would
I wish The Garden Boys’ hands were welcoming to mine
The Garden Boy has a love he can’t admit
The Garden Boy is the garden boy because he reminds me of all the different flowers and the sunshine that blesses them and the sky that changes paintings every evening and he reminds me of the storms that he hates and the sunshine that he loves and the rain dripping from my eyes as I thought about how beautiful he was
The Garden Boy loves the world but I don’t think he loves me
The Garden Boy probably doesn’t have a garden
The Garden Boy is a poem of leaves turning orange as fall descends from the heavens
The Garden Boy told me he likes my hair but maybe he’s receiving wavelengths from a different star and my hair is red
But Garden Boy, I want us to be purple
s.s x 9/13/15
Only words of eloquence painstakingly chosen
and refined may paint this picture.
Alone and forgotten, like a seed's unbeknownst potential
left on the pavement for the birds.
For a daisy lacking pedals, leaf, or stem would not
ever have been thought to bloom.
A youth's realization began a life of friendship, and love,
and beauty of unmatched quality.
He found former choice lacking all that which the latter
gifted in grand white bouquets.
A bond unparalleled and uniquely honed under repeated
cast of golden sphere retrieved.
For the improbable flower blossom could only continue
when given love unconditionally.
Yet even an impossible flower would succumb to the
cruel and imminent crawl of time.
He whistles a tune that once was doted, wishing it
could again encouraged her evolution.
A boy and his flower, inseparable until the end that
stole sooner than hope could want.
To the plot where her love held sound root, buried down
deeply in the soil of his soul.
His only comfort to be found was in the life he gave her,
in her happiness self perpetuated.
In knowing that his painfully delicate flower never once
was shaded, nor stifled, not uprooted.
She was whole, and so was he.
But no longer.
You said the world was yet to see
That twisted rivers flows
But for me it seem to be
The winter makes them froze

I held for you your hidden tears
You didn't even know
I held the tears for all those years
You've let the summer go

They think they see your secret boy
I thought that too before
But know i see the truth with joy
You are no boy no more

You told me life was beautiful
I looked at it all new
But as you turned your back on me
it seemed like love did too
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