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Anastasia Jun 11
crystal trysts
souls collide
making something beautiful
golden thread
braiding hair
hands run through
in the night
"but i'm not tired"
wanting to hold you
when i can't sleep
crystal trysts
hide with you
in a bed of flowers
hands on my skin
lips on mine
suns set
letting forth night
holding the moon
in your eyes.
c.b. ♥
as is a        
                              French Braid.

Which strand                  
                          should I pick;
which one                  
                         should I use?
Or should I                    
                       just let go
and let them                

   l   o   o   s   e  ?
Inspired by my French Braid...
Phoenix Bekkedal Jul 2017
The start (of) /
a braid or a rope /
is nothing (at the beginning of this) /
it is only the idea stemming /
from a sapling or a seed to become /
a tree /
reality /
what we touch, see, and wish to be /
Ancient beings can feel how they are not free /
I notice this is my mother’s face /
as I lead her to the restroom /
so near, too far for her /
the years count with her /
the (counted) years count the steps to the toilet /
and consider just holding it /
because the pain of walking so clearly outweighs /
the pain of holding your *** after birthing 3 children /
one of them dead /
okay, birthing two children /
I was cut from my mother /
Regardless, /
maybe if you cut out the lungs /
things would cease to be /
chaotic like the outreach /
reaching out a hand /
praying she’ll find me /
because I’ve gone too far and can’t rewind //////

maybe if you remove my lungs…. /
I could stop focusing on my breathing /
give you all of my love /
show you I am not worthy /
of that admiration leaking from your ears //////

don’t be jealous of me
Jealous of me?
She couldn't be.
How could she be?
Lying beside me--
Wishing to have my something
Iris Nyx Nov 2014
I hardly have any time
its so scarce that now
I've cut corners

Like over-thinking
and just like that
I love myself
so much more
AD Mullin Oct 2014
Inside the drainage basin
Bounding my soul
Fluid dynamics

Phases of water
Gather in the
Mountain towers

Over time
Gravity plus precipitation
Into snow pack

Come spring
That snow pack
Braids it's way down the mountain
Co-mingling with groundwater
Bubbling up in springs
Gathering momentum
In mountain streams

A constant conversion from
Potential to kinematic

Streams make their
Way into prairie rivers
Meandering along
Through riparian pockets
Of biodiversity

Reaching a levee
Then breaching

Local, national, and international boundaries
Are no match

As my soul
Finds it's way to base level
In the ocean of your love
5 September 2014

All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return. Ecclesiastes 1:7
Megan May May 2014
It says you were active 12 minutes ago
Even though you've been dead for twelve years
It was probably your cousin, you took over your page a few days after your passing
She turned it into a sort of yearbook, just for you
I wish you could see it
I always get my hopes up when I see that little green do appear on the screen
But it's never you
It hasn't been you in so long
It feels like just yesterday, you were by my side
Smiling and laughing and braiding your sister's hair
She hasn't worn a braid since you left
She says that nobody else can do it half as well as you did
We all miss you darling
I wish you'd come back
Even though I know you can't
You're still alive in my dreams though
And you'll always have your place in my heart

— The End —