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 Nov 2018 ames
yúyīn
Tired..
 Nov 2018 ames
yúyīn
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Youllneverunderstand me
@.**
 Mar 2018 ames
Her
Immortal
 Mar 2018 ames
Her
the moment a poet
falls in love with you

is the moment
you live

f o r e v e r
 Mar 2018 ames
Ciel Noir
Atom
 Mar 2018 ames
Ciel Noir
What other kind              of creature could divide        
        Each different thing             into its different sides                
  With chaos versus             order, dark and light
The stark duality of         wrong and right
We even split the very        world in two
With human versus human,       we and you
But still no matter how much      we divide
Each thing has infinitely many      sides
 Mar 2018 ames
Nicole S
you make me want to write something beautiful.
something like honey that drips on the lips,
golden and sweet and precious as amber-
or perhaps decadent frosting
made of buttercream, fresh vanilla-
constantly stirring the wrist, stirring the mind,
must fill the tongue with sugar and patience.

but how does one write that something?
how do these letters and commas and gathered dots (ellipses)
coalesce, rise, reach 415°F
without collapsing in on themselves,
or worse- growing doughy and sickly and peaking too early and too late?

....

could you teach me how to make, how to bake,
this beautiful food for the soul?
so much inspiration and so little time- after all, the most important part of art is patience,
and who has the time for that?
 Mar 2018 ames
Dencio
This is not a love poem
this is an I love you do you love me like
I love you poem
do you know me like
you think you do poem
this is a would you be disappointed
if you did poem
an I have been feeling the chilling of the air
and I cant tell if it is just the fault of the season
or if you, too, are cooling
whatever heat you had for me
browning and falling and
crumbling between my fingers
like the leaves of these oak trees
in november poem
a what would I need to do to keep us warm poem
and this is also
an I may be completely mistaken poem
an it was seventy degrees today poem
this is a show me I am completely mistaken poem

— The End —