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Sophia Feb 10
After years of winter trees and folk music
L.L. Bean boots and Patagonia coats
Comfort in cloudiness and muted colors and road trips north
Long brown hair and tortoise shell glasses and clean faces and lichen eyes
After heartbreak and discomfort in what used to make me feel warm,
I met confetti
Pink hair and flashy piercings and bare shoulders framed with bright sweaters
Poppy music and a deep purple mouth
Nothing about her is soft and organic but she is a popped bubble that covers the ground with iridescent laughter and a sugar bomb of genius and wine-stained moans that taste like freedom
It’s like I was standing on the street and confetti fell from the sky and brought with her a parade of finallys
Finally, I am out of the woods where Edison bulbs and pine needles and black coffee in freckled mugs left me to freeze
Caro  Jan 8
Caro Jan 8
Manifesting as a goddess
Island of light or ocean
Or earth
Or universe

I feel star threads attached to my elbows and my rib cage where wings would grow
We dance together

Lightly affecting these precious astral ones with my desires and my light

O humanity, O goddess in me
Part of that star-freckled deep blue black sea


So light and free and golden to be
Manifesting my life exactly as I want it. It feels good to be this clear. I feel radiant, brighter than the sun and cooler than the breeze.
matt d mattson Nov 2013
In the twilight night
That casts shadows to the day
The cold creeps at the October edges of my single pane windows,
And seeps into my cheaply heated home with newspaper insulation
It catches my toes, and walks up my white hands and grabs my face and nose
The cold grasps firm and goes deep

And in the chilly dieing light  
I found a picture of you laughing, tucked into a book I was going to give you
Suddenly I am dragged back to the moment when I fell in love with your soft native eyes.
And your freckled cheeks drawn in an eternal smile
I loved your black hair and your carefree way

The cold is not cold enough for this,
I open a window and the back door.
I finish my drink to the whiskey sharp bottom,
I cast off my blanket and sit as wind comes in.
The cold is not yet cold enough

I add ice and ***** to my glass
Hoping for Russian absolution
But in the freezing flesh core of my sad meat suit,
As the temperature drops to negative numbers  
My stupid heart still beats for you
And the cold is not cold enough for this.
emily mikkelsen  Oct 2016
4 am
emily mikkelsen Oct 2016
you and your 4 am eyes
strip me layer by layer
in total innocence
unlike anyone I have ever known
it's unintentional for sure

you don't know how you affect me
how your pillow wrinkled cheek
gives my fingers butterflies
or how your freckled eyes
make my pupils open wide

you have given me love like no other
and you have no idea
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