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I dry, you are the rain that flushed my body.
And we are fertile land with loose soil. Then feelings grew in it.
Under the heavens I pray,
that I will be strong enough to hold you back any longer,
so that you won't disappear
or come home at any time.

Love is the harvest of feelings that can make us survive in a bad season, before actually coming,
after we're really cooked.
Indonesia, 23rd December 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Ruheen Jan 2021
Let the morning rise
But the sun's bled dry
As the storm clouds tread
Across the cold blue sky
And then, smiles,
The mourning night.
And then, miles, to get over and walk away from this incredibly bad case of writer's block.
Maria Mitea Sep 2020
Burned by the sun,
Waiting,
In the middle of the day,
Waiting,
Nowhere to go,
It has been dry for a while
and I pray “Rainy rain
fall on me, and fall on him,
fall, fall, fall ... if not
I’ll be the rain,
and he'll be the earth,
falling into each other secrets”

I’ll be his fresh rainfall,
His clime and his
Every season to come,
when burned by the sun,
earthy earth,
sip me all
when runoff on
sharp-bright
crispy skin.

Drink me,
deeper, and deeper
into his colourful roots
where dryness cheers
humusy kisses,
shower his face with
tender driblets of
sweet promises and
roses will never fade away
on his chest, 
in the midday,

Burn the rain down where the secrets are,
where the trees and large bushes survive,
and high winds have only one way.

I’ll take rainy droplets away
and fall over again when his
Burned by the sun,
Waiting in the middle of the day,
Nowhere to go,
But hiding in the rain when
Burned by the sun.
Aashi Sinha Sep 2020
a dry leaf on a cemented ground, me chasing you all around, is really everything fine?

Shocked to the core

i want it, i need it, it’s not
come and go
come and go
come and go
come and go,
it’s
stay.

entangled legs and intertwined fingers, velvet sheets and sweet lies
searching for you between atoms and skin cracks, you were here, right here, right now, where did you go?

white noise, the crackle of static, rain on me, Joji, the ocean between us, darkness surrounds u-- me.
Coleen Mzarriz Jul 2020
Tears from the mystical sky
seeped in through my shoulder—
as I let its fervor tears
dampen my lowly soul;
he said, “hear me out”

The way it moves around
sailing toward to broaden
mysterious mists—the plastic clouds
covering most of the gleam of the sun
and the way he murmurs into my ears—
I can never get out again.

While strange stares pierced through
my core—a menacing way of
forcing unraveling fragile pieces
of my silent port, and there I
let a foreign one
travel his way through—
sailing beneath my springs.

On this day of August's chilly afternoon—
while the tears of the mystical sky
tumbles through my shoulder—dripping
my cold dry bones.
after a week of not writing.
Mrs Timetable May 2020
Why plant
A fragile heart
In the wrong place
Setting it up
To suffocate
Like a tulip
In a xeriscape
BLT word of the day “xeriscape”
Poetic T May 2020
Your ink will never dry,
        smudging every time  

I read it..
  

there are never goodbyes only

         I'll read you again soon friend..
Poetic T May 2020
Walking like a cowboy,
         that was wetter than dry...

                                     Humiliation...
We Are Stories May 2020
if you wake up
empty stomach
tired and hungry
and pour coffee down into the empty hole,
it will slide right through
- such is life;
sometimes
racing myself to the bathroom
is a more pleasurable experience
than not visiting those marble floors at all
that day
that week
those three weeks-
it is by far
the more pleasurable experience
to feel the burn in my stomach
the churn
and groan
than to have nothing happen at all
-such is life;
it is an odd enlightenment
to be aware of the pleasure received
from the release of what we spend filling ourselves up with.
we fill ourselves
we stuff ourselves
and we eagerly await to get rid of it,
and we enjoy it,
at least I do,
for although such things are not what we discuss,
it is what we feel
it is who we are
-such is life
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