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Sky Alice Oct 2020
you don’t know what it feels like
to read and write by starlight
i wrote a play it seemed right
to entertain the moon

space is quite a lonely stage
it turns its starry spotlight gaze
down upon me floating here
with nowhere else to go

darling girl, don’t you know?

i don’t feel satisfaction
when i tell you you’re my world
and i don’t see nothin’ happen
when your lips form empty words
and i’d rather watch from far away
to see how blue you really are
cause even though i’m lost in space
at least it takes my breath away

you tried and tried to make me fear
but it’s so lovely way up here
past the cellophane wrap atmosphere
by the window pane where the glass is clear

and the stars are so bright
and your touch is so cold
but the rocket fuel fires keep me all warm

cause i don’t feel satisfaction
when i tell you you’re my world
and i don’t see nothin’ happen
when your lips form empty words
and i’d rather watch from far away
to see how blue you really are
cause even though i’m lost in space
at least it takes my breath away

i wonder if you’ll miss me
i wonder if you’ll want me
when you’re all alone and it starts to snow
will you think, think of me

or maybe when it rains
and you don’t like the taste
will you start to cry with me
or will you stay the same
Sky Alice Oct 2020
you point out the moon

but your fingers are begemmed

i don’t notice it
  Oct 2020 Sky Alice
Carlo C Gomez
Not of ancient lore,
or some cross to bear.
But here. But now.
No Prince Charming
at the castle door.
Only her, Miss Damsel herself.
In some paper city,
called Zilch,
where things fall apart fast.
She's trapped in no tower,
but a loft instead.
With tin-foil crown,
she climbs across
the kitchen table
to slay the dragon,
in the flames
of his own black-hearted
bedevilment.
A dagger to the heart
of the matter,
and all is quiet again.
Then with a satisfied yawn,
she retires for her afternoon nap.
  Sep 2020 Sky Alice
Tired Colors
I don’t know how deep
I am in this idea

the crazy man ***** on the train

I don’t know how deep
this tunnel goes
I don’t know how far back –
he looks past my eyes:
I don’t know how rapt
I am in this maze of strayed greetings;
I am in outer space
I don’t know how deep

the crazy man cracks his crazy back
and spits

I still don’t know –
in this vestibule
where the days go,
how far the days go;
the alphabet starts and ends
I don’t know what darkness tastes like,
feels like:
I don’t know why this train bends –
why that tall woman sits staring,
why he paces,
yelling at dark glass

the crazy man is still crazy
a few rows ahead


but
I am easily asleep;

lost in pink
sunset clouds
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