And i am shy about a thousand things, but i wasn't when you grabbed my hand and invited me to dance with you.
Our naked bodies, moving slowly and becoming one.
My feet on your feet.
My heart in front of yours, as if they were saying hi to each other.

Hi, it was enchanting to meet you.

Sparks Fly Nov 3

All her clothes
pooled on the floor around them

His hands were seeds
planting a luxuriant garden of
exotically alluring flowers
on every risen goosebump
as though they were lush soil beds

The only clothing left on her
was the warm luster of his body
on top

blanketing her

Was it lip to lip
Or hip to hip
That I found myself in this
Deep abyss
Thoughts racing
Hearts pacing
I forgot or I forget
The past and present
Hands around my neck
And fingers somewhere else
It's easy to get lost
But at what cost
Do I lose myself
When it comes to you

Jazzelle Monae © 2017 All Rights Reserved
Poetic T Oct 26

Purity falls hiding the sin
            beneath layered breath.
Sweeping upon the actions
                            of frigid temperament.

Moonshine lingers, a silhouette of
                     misdeeds does shine,
But everyone is looking upwards.
               Never seeing deceased snow..

You would wake up in the middle of the night,
and if our bodies were not touching each other, you'd make it happen.
I never told you this, but i loved it.
I loved how you wanted to feel me close to you,
how you wanted to make sure i was still there.

I was.
I still am.

anon Oct 2

no i mean it


i was actually feeling a bit

and­ i needed you to tell me
on a monday night
at 7:53
in the middle of july

that i had i nice ass

it really brightened my day
to know
that i
a human person

can be complimented
because of my

instead of the fact
that i work
all the time
without getting tired
or giving up

or that
i study
so much
i feel like
i'm falling apart

or that
i spend time
trying to make the world
around me
a little

i really wanted to affirm
what girls are told
from the time
they can listen

that cup size matters
and whether or not
you fill out your jeans
whether or not
you might matter

that we will be ignored
in the work place
if we aren't

and even if we are
that is all we become


not people

you know
somebody once told me
it doesn't matter
what you look like
because your personality can make up
for anything

which should be good
i look like quasimodo
but with a sense of humor
and a bit of spunk
i'm esmerelda

i can look like a spork
but if i laugh
and play along
like nothing's wrong
like girls should
i can be a full fork

i love that i have to be something


i do

i love that being
is more important than

i love that i have to be someone who listens and never speaks

i love that i have to work with all my might to be thin enough for people who don't care about other people

i love that i have to have a double d and up in order to be even noticed

i love that my butt has to be filled out and gigantic so that i can be assured personhood by a man

because girls are only





we are reduced to objects
who give up
and don't fight

because the women who fight
are criticized
and raped
and killed
and we can't stop it

because the more we speak

the more we are silenced

so thank you

for reminding me at 7:53
in a menards parking lot
your wedding ring glinting
like the malice in your eye
that all i am
what you see

Maria Etre Sep 25

It's not too bad
to crave the feeling
of falling
in love
and act upon the
symptoms of such a drug

It's a natural high
a chemical imbalance
that paints the world
a pinker hue
at the end of the day
it's easier
to fall
than to defy gravity
and get back up

Zan Balmore Sep 2

Bodies belong
in the cold, cold ground
Bodies belong
in the heat of flame
Bodies belong
wrapped with me

Tight, and pressing
recent death to flesh.


Peter Balkus Aug 27

They've buried many bodies,
but not the hatchet,
they say they never had a chance. 
They didn't even try.

They've buried many bodies
some of them were alive.

It's much easier with bodies,
even if they're still moving,
it's much easier. One hour, maybe two.
And job is done.

"Hatchet? - they say - Oh man, it takes time!
It's pain in the ass! We won't do it. No.
at least not now. We're busy, too busy
to give it a try.

Let's bury those bodies first,
and then, before new ones arrives,
we can think about it,
and maybe even try
to try."

sophia sacal Aug 17

Tell me, love—

How many more poems
Do I have to write before
you realize that it is
you I write about?

How many more lines
Describing your stormy gray eyes,
Your heart-shaped lips—
Those lips my body is aching
To kiss?  

How many more meaningful looks and
Stolen sidelong glances
Before you look into my eyes
And see the love that has glazed them over?  

How many more times
Do I have to see your hand
Interlaced with someone else’s
Before you realize mine has been open,
Waiting for yours all along?

How many more unsent texts
At midnight when I can’t sleep
And all I need is you?

How much more, my love?
I’m afraid I cannot wait any longer.
Love is a monster tearing at my heart,
Soon to destroy me if I have to see you
With him once more.

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