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RC Apr 2015
Trying to describe what happened to us
is like fumbling to forge stars from
the evanescent remains
ever fluent in our veins
of astral bodies drifting further away.

Translunar thoughts extort my orbit around you
regardless of your eyes, their contained gravity
despite your lucid voice and it's fervid pull,
how they all hold me in place.
You are your own universe
and I am lost in your space.

Asteroids of presentimental wounds cratered my trust
you eclipsed unhindered through my life
and flared into hers;
our syzygy was over
but I never noticed our declination occur,
with your ephemeral attention
and I, rapt in limerence,
stayed a sidereal fragment to your sky.

I never did and still don't mind...
Definitions just in case, and because I'm addicted to learning new words.
trans·lu·nar - adj. of, relating to, or denoting the trajectory of a spacecraft traveling between the earth and the moon.
ex·tort - v. obtain (something) by force, threats, or other unfair means.
pre·sen·ti·ment - n. an intuitive feeling about the future, especially one of foreboding.
syz·y·gy - n. a conjunction or opposition, especially of the moon with the sun. "the planets were aligned in syzygy"
e·phem·er·al - adj. lasting for a very short time.
lim·er·ence n. - the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings but not primarily for a ****** relationship.
si·de·re·al - adj. of or with respect to the distant stars (i.e., the constellations or fixed stars, not the sun or planets).
RC Apr 2015
Beautiful things fell out of his mouth.
I miss the way they felt
as I'd wear them around for days,
like necklaces of gold,
rings of silver
adorned on my mind.
RC Apr 2015
Like the city
there's always the constant buzz of your existence in the background
reminding me you're still here
polluting my thoughts

Your lights are too brilliant to disentangle from my mind
burning bright like neon signs in your eyes
prompting me towards you
and your vacant streets

Empty words hang on brick
crumbling graffiti of the walls we used to call shelter;
we built houses on comfort
but always needed something better

When I left, you phoned
I told you I had found home
though I wanted to hear the lonely in your voice
match the lonely I still know
RC Feb 2015
He held my cheeks in his hands like my lips could break
And before him the sea would've swept down his throat and washed away the sand that had settled in the knots of his grinding bones
Reviving the reefs under his ribs
And sweeping away the crusts of salt clinging to his tide worn flesh.
I returned once again to the lighthouses I had built in the palms of his hands
Fingers coaxing through and slipping under wave after trembling wave
He knew where to touch, he knew how to behave
Yet I've let him sail far, far, and farther away.
Quick rant. high and i have migraine.  So sh.
RC Feb 2015
To this day I smoke cigarettes in their names
a collection of men
admittedly women
that after settling too long
sit somewhere between memories and strain.
I don't burden myself with the weight of their names
though a few of their impressions have become deepening stains
bruising, blemishing the favorite spots on my brain.
Earliest versions of the story have found personal inches on my skin
before I grew up I learned to let it leak in
sluicing through veins
burning the moments of where I had been
in attempts to remind myself of what remains.
RC Feb 2015
His hands are static
livening burning trails of goosebumps across my naked skin
hand print after hand print
dragged through every drunken pore
I begin to let him in.
He breathes deeper than I remember
holds me closer than before
from the highs we used to offer
we've learned to offer more
I can smell his *** on my sheets
crumpled under the bed, now their at his feet
it's funny how this time it's so much easier to let him leave.
RC Feb 2015
Today our eyes caught the fog cradling the trees
step by step we glided over asphalt
your arm kept the chill from nipping at me
pulling me closer your warmth melted the cold slipping
under my sweatshirt and down my sleeves
but your touch permeates just below my skin
that's not saying much, it's always been so paper thin
and I can still feel winter in my bones
the more you try the less strain you show
the colder I get, the need to make your love my home
melts in my fingers and to tell you the truth
I think I preferred the snow.
we're breaking up tomorrow.
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