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Steven Fried Nov 2014
We meet here again
Slimmer than I’d care to admit

Of us ever intertwining hands
In love?

Of how to break through the veil of acquaintances
eludes me

Take the leap with me
Don’t let me regret

loving your body
open your window

On the top floor
I’ll climb mountains
to love you now
Steven Fried Nov 2014
We have sacrificed freedom upon immovable alters
White runny paint is our animalistic blood
We decorate where we pray
frescos, mosaics,
Crete’s naturalistic landscapes
imitation only because we are unsatisfied with the un-safety inherent in Earth’s identity.

look at the wall
imagine your lover on the other side
hold your hand to it
imagine your finger tips touching through the plaster
now see her dead
mutilated on the ground
in a ****** pool
because you couldn’t reach
over the wall

the City is a masquerade ball
things hide behind brick masks
who knows
you could **** a tenement building with a Mac truck
like an aristocrat penetrating his princess
late into Moon’s rise
and find a thousand thousand beetles and cockroaches streaming out of the hole
and prisoners who haven’t seen the sun in years

we are humans
no longer natural, caged.
no longer aware, lost
no longer real, facades.
What are our walls?
Steven Fried Nov 2014
Remember home?
You could shed and fall to the ground.

The sun shone then
On clear skin
not stained black
by slow

You didn’t live for the chill.
Cold nights did not hold such a romance.
You sought warmth-

Blooming lives wither
without sun
dreams die on fat-lips
and the broken feeling
Steven Fried Nov 2014
The Overpass
Boys get high

and pass the warmth

vivid and bright.

Living surfaces surround them-

 spray paint
under the overpass.

They were nigh new members

a nation of addicts.

Here recruitment was rampant

where friends went to try

and they broke-

chemically chained

under that overpass.

In the summer

strange souls pressed together

to ****, to love, to grow,

a maiden voyage

hailed by the night
inhaling the night

under that overpass.

If ever you get high

and look for something more

it’s right there

under that overpass.

Behind the weedy grass and paint

a blue door waits.

Bones litter the escape-

to a new world.

Pass out of  this lif
and lay before it.
Release yourself,

enter paradise

under that overpass.
Steven Fried Nov 2014
Her bones were brittle, her hips
fresh cracked plastic.
Her hair was gray
lackluster straw.

Her sweatshirt was too large, her stomach too small.
Her pain overwhelming, her resolve a mask.

He lay near.

She sat in a wood chair
at the kitchen table;
where she'd been
for days.

She lowered her arm gently, and beckoned,
"Come back."
Her plate was empty- her glass too.

His plate was empty- his glass too.
He lay away, as tired as she.
His eyes found hers
in hungry confusion.

"Please," begged her nature.
Hollowed, that was all that remained.
"I'm sorry."

He did not know.

He looked to her, his first, his last,
his only- perked ears and a dry moan.
He sighed and closed his eyes.

She chose to close hers too,
"Goodbye," she hurt.
Steven Fried Nov 2014
What’s your name?
Does it have a sensuous timber?

Like Nina, and nuance- necessity, and
No nonsense numb love

Like Rayna, and rapture,a release, and
Rending/rupturing by a rasp in the

Unending length and infinitesimal declaration of love and hate
It's ulcerating in your mouth and
unsteadying in your bones

Your name is like two future lovers
Hands inching hungrily
For the first touch, they graze
Slightly at first, slowly, playfully
Dancing lithely in a crowded room
Groping and touching fingertips and skin
And then the fingers interlock

Hand muscles contract to such a degree
That your intentions

And for the ephemeral and ultimate
The silent inching explosion of passion
Is the universe
Steven Fried Nov 2014
You took me stumbling to the elevator
Into my dorm, it was not even nine

I put on a movie
we kissed- hard

I laughed
you unbuttoned your blouse

I was below you
and I asked, "What should I do?"

You said, "Take your pants off."
so I did.

The ****** was on
and I was still laughing

Then it was happening

I laughed during
I finished

I stood up, "You should go."
you left

On my comforter
you left your mark

Blood stains as big as my head
that bleach could not remove

I was drunk
you were sober

Was your first time,
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