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I found a picture of you today
buried beneath the clutter
of seven years of pain.
I remember when it was taken.
You were so full of life that day.
I swear your smile
could have led boats
back to the bay.
I remember your presence,
and the way it felt
to hold your attention.
Those eyes
a raging fire
with a crystal clarity
meant only for the divine.
I swear you hold secrets
between the walls of time.
I can still hear you
when I whisper your name
over the rolling waves
of the lake,
your final resting place.
I swear when I'm there,
I can feel your hand
on my shoulder,
comforting me,
like a warm summer rain
on a beautiful August day.
x
We are weightless
to change shot
straight through our veins,
like ****** corrupts the holy,
we embrace pain,
and forget that love
is ours to give.
It's ours to give.
 Sep 2017 Sylvia Frances Chan
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we are the wild youth.

with lungs full of ocean water and ribs stained red with sunsets and roses

we have lilacs and honey dripping from our frozen fingertips

with watermelon smiles and candle wax eyes, we pull at our star dusted skin

and howl to the moon.

and with heads full of midnight and our veins swimming in twilight,

we dream our big dreams and pull down the stars, begging for our wishes to

come true
thank you for the daily! im so thankful and in awe of all the lovely feedback, i cant thank you all enough
Sometimes
         I feel a well
                   dug deep
         into my heart
  I try to stop it
but it quickly
becomes ocean
  and overflows  
     into great tsunami
          rises over all the levees
             rushes past dams                  
               breaks down tall
                   city structures,
              edifices crumbling
           in its path
     all the squid and octopi
    skitting forth
in wild pulses,
tentacles entangled
     in doorways and rooves
        slipping through narrow
                window-openings
                   as they pour ink
                       in clouds,
                         shifting shapes
                          in cephalopod excitement
                            while blue whales
                            and humpbacks
                               breach over bridges,
                             phosphorescent jellies
                          light up
                       the dark streets of
                      my arteries
                     electric eels illuminate
                    the alleyways of
                   desolation's thick syrup
                     and I cannot stop it even
                            if I wanted to,
                   these darkened,
                     swirling waves
I am both floating and flying
like a jumping manta ray
curling around the ferries
bobbing in seahorse iridescence
weaving between buses
as if they were corals

And when the storm subsides,
colorful rockpools form,
rich in diversity
It is there,
in between the
multicolored ***** and
succulent shellfish,
in a mermaid's
       voluptuous smile
and turquoise eye
that I see you,
so crystal clear
                I could reach out              
                      and bring you to me,          
                         holding you tight
                         until the
                gentle break
     of
          morning
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVGQWw4Ap6o
my favorite time of the day is 4am,
or maybe it's my favorite time of the night.

whether I'm just waking up,
or just going to sleep,

the calm darkness and quiet reminds me
that right now it's only me and the moon.

I like to think that she listens.
I talk to her like company.

this is the most cozy time of night,
or maybe the easiest part of the day.

she is the only thing
that always comes back to me.
That
feeling
that
is
much
much
greater
than
ten
words.
This is my first attempt at a 10-word poem. I hope to have a collection of ten 10W poems starting with this one, soon!
Ask
my
Heart,
not
my
Head,
why
my
Love
persists.
Young
buds
impatiently
bursting,
blooming . . .
Some
fade.
My
heart
remains.
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