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saige Aug 2019
Thanks to that velveteen tone he
saves for me
And his turpentine diction,
The cliches that made my eyes roll
Now make my heart rush

Nonetheless, my thoughts riot as follows...

(When urged to call him something cheery
something no smile can wane at
like that fleck of gold in his left iris)
Well, "sunshine" should suffice
And Latin for that equals
Which phoneticized equals
"Opry cheetahs"
So the obvious endearment here is

(When urged to call him something pure
perhaps upon watching him blink
or blush
or blow
cigarette ringlets away from babies)
No, that's a slang for ***** these days
So, "raindrop"
If Latin is dead,
It sure knows how to haunt me
"Gutta imbrium"
My little ember
The only glow in all this charcoal

(When urged to call him something pretty
when he's brushing his hair
or allowing me to arrange red clovers
in his sideburns)
Hm, let's testdrive "moonlight"
Let's shift into Latin, "luna lumen"
Thus the nickname I bite back is

While I hear darlings and dearies
on the daily
Why must I fail to mirror him?

(When urged to call him something sweet
like the butterscotch kisses he whispers
into my knuckles)
Like a honeycomb
Or as Ceasar would say, "cera mel"
Close enough?
Dizzy, then

We spin
In silence

(When urged to call him something cute
with his cap on sideways
and his head in my lap
and the world at my heels)
Half of that backwards might as well be
Two lips
Two tongues
Too much, yet never enough of his
Smoke bomb pomegranate mouth

For heaven's sake, see?
That's why I kiss instead of speak
saige Jan 2019
flat on my back on
the asphalt
like that fox a mile ago
cigar smoke and cold gusts
i watch the moon rust
and flick stars until they
dive like
paper airplanes
and see why
tis the milky way
midnight skies are white
when city lights

pebbles get stuck to my cheek
the asphalt rumbles
i try to hear
earth's heartbeat
i'll die pretending
that it's yours
saige Jan 2019
I am sick of seeing my breath
So as
I march up this bank
My chin tips toward the sun and I
Slam shut my eyes
Let my face go to leather
My vision go rosy
Like my knuckles and nose
Pink lemonade lids
In Greensboro's blind spot
I stand in spotlight
Yet I don't feel bright, no
All I feel is
When I spin
To lean on thin
I smell
Your sweater
Sunrays are
Your fingers
And when I tap my boot on
Icy ponds
I hear your voice
My heart
Split through its rawest chamber
The one you unlocked
Eight months after
I left you out to freeze
Keep haunting me
saige Jan 2019
You went from black to
It's rust, you say
The moon turned pearl
Then blood
That same day
unbeknownst to him, my brother bought a maroon mitsubishi eclipse the day of the lunar eclipse.
saige Jan 2019
Dumber than a bag of rocks
on its way to a fountain floor,
we sat like pretzels on a sewer pipe
ignoring coins in lieu of
watching stars, you watched the cars
and swore
I wasn't heartless

And ****
that really took me back

We shut our eyes until they leaked
and the highway was the ocean
oregon's chill, a seaside breeze

We grew wings

And your hair slapped
my cheek
splashing, dripping, laughing
And I couldn't hear a thing
yet it was music all the same

Now, dryer than the barbs in my knees
on the phone, on the run
You swear I'm still not heartless
just that same old stupid ***
And I know
we're finally coming back
saige Dec 2018
He can be my
And I can be his
'Cause I'm already his

Every night,
He brings me back
To life

Can I bring him back
This time?
saige Nov 2018
What it feels like to fear
he'll **** his own god
and that's what she is
his name leaving her lips
is gospel.

She doesn't believe in god
but she believes that she would
go to hell if it existed
and there she would have
an iv jammed in her jugular
full of the blood
of the people she killed
coagulating with hers
caught in her circulatory system
like frozen water
in a garden hose.

The veins in his wrist
are green like copper
deceptively dull
hiding the wolf
howling in his pulse.

They were special
they were the snowflake
that caused this avalanche.
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