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s y kalindara Nov 2021
A string of unrequited loves
invade my mind amid restless sleep,
four AM dreams under starless skies occupied by
pretty schoolgirls with rosy cheeks.
Seven years flowed under the bridge,
yet one of the many unspoken faces stands out
uncloaked in the mist of corridors and the early stir
of shuffling feet and uniform skirts,
my breath catches in my throat as I think of her.

I think back to our interlacement inside those four solid walls,
how I had met you through gossiping whispers and scribbles on bathroom stalls,
our paths had crossed in late winters and spring,
but those summer conversations changed everything.

By now the details are coated in dust,
but I remember the shifting air around us
wrapping me in enchantment,
and I knew I hadn't known euphoria
until I'd tasted my name on your tongue,
and I've only ever been sober
but the sound of your voice could get me drunk.

You wore a shell unlike whatever held your notoriety
and I never saw it coming, like an English storm brewing,
getting caught in the middle of it all until
it became this game of counting midnights, pacing, waiting
for the day our fingerprints stamped the same staircase railing.

I'll bet my eyes that your deathless beauty is just as haunting
as it was when I looked up at your raven hair against jasmine skin
and eyes rimmed with shadows that got me thinking
how close can our skin skim before it gets too intimate?

Transposed to a time when
what made me float the most
were your glances,
brushing hands and
hugs between classes,
and all your excuses
for patching my bruises,
to wiping blue paint off the curves of your face
and suppressing the urge
to crop the space
between our flustered breaths and parting lips,
I'd still give anything to have that kiss.

These days, I recite your letters to my bedroom ceiling at every turn
and they echo back to me in harmonies, as sacred as scripture.
How do lost words in stale, stained ink still make me yearn, crash and burn
until I'm screaming to the sea before me that you slipped through my fingers?

In retrospect, I think it's fair if I called it love
and that's something I won't apologise for.
Perhaps someday, I could stand up with a hurdling heartbeat and tell you
that I loved you the way Emily loved Sue
in glistening pink, purple and blue.


Copyright © 2021 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
Apparently the major crush I had on this girl I knew back in highschool wasn't a phase. I'm bisexual, which isn't as hard to admit now, but it was back then. I was 14/15/16 & growing up in a really religious & homophobic region & all these thoughts I had, felt so shameful to me. I'll still never admit them to her even though I think she felt the same way, it still feels way too risky to say. And my sexuality is something I keep hidden when I'm back home but I feel comfortable sharing it online & in poems, so thank you for reading this if you've gotten this far. **


(P.S. you can follow me on instagram, if you'd like to @sykmusings ♡)
Merlie T Aug 2021
Sweet, brown eye'd boy
Curls of black hair
loose round my finger tips
Warm, golden hands
hold the small of my back
Your smile
shy and stunning
fills me with the sun
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2021
~
When Pharaoh
checked out at the Red Sea,
odd circumstance made a grab for his vacant scepter,

and kingdom collided
with plague to paint a mural
on the palace wall (or maybe, it was the hotel lobby),

of a dreamer's garden,
his wife in veils, her dance a cordial
invitation to a great many unmentionable things,

the feral sky had blown
itself out, and in muted candle
nightshade, the mistress of war disembarked,

and so somewhere
in those upper rooms, ruler
and consort, hearing the sound of running water,

mystified their carnal
senses by infusing themselves
with a little vigorous morphine of the soul

~
Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, pens can express when the tongue can't:}


What makes her so different

What makes her so quiet yet her silence flowing a million words

What makes her so dark yet the room in her presence shines

What makes her so desperate yet her eyes  hopeful for savior

what makes her so inert yet the  sweat on her screams excite

What makes her so sad yet her way of fidgeting is fighting a smile

Yet she manages to fuel him

with a sift of need for more of her fascinating enchantment



                                                                        ------ravenfeels
Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, just random stuff to share from my notes:>

                            twinkle twinkle in my head

                           a fairy tumbling into my bed

                      on a quest to the escape trips the feet

                     laughter spread wide on the concrete

                                hidden from the unseen

                              yet for the magic to appear

                             a glisten from afar not near

                                  holds before the gone

                        before the adventure or the run

                         silenced on trickles of embraces

              tattooed to the lips in drips from those chases

           unfunded to the dimples of the backs of the faces

                             to a welcoming of a nation

                            a whole new legacy a creation

            symphonies to my ears an incredulous fascination

                I rather the harmonious dancing pleasantries

                  that bring the chaos and back the pastries

                                  not of cakes not of candy

                                           of memories

                                     in a twist in a frown

                       the enchantment betrays and drowns

                      the lover into a fictional immortality

                           the kind that sweeps from reality

   to the hands of seconds on the visual symbols of conspiracy

                                      flustered by snow

                     into margins drunk on the laws of penalty

                       and the encounters of past familiarity

                      hums into the heights smoothed frights

                                     bet you a comeback

                                      in the final scene

                        the again everlasting so called calamity

                        not even knowing the costs or the price

                               hence on the steps they wise

                               an adornment so pure so nice

                                       simple for a ball

                                       unique for a fall

                                       on the toilet wall

                                    and the myth in the hall




                                
                                                                ­      

                                                               ­                   -----ravenfeels
Illusions of thy presence
Love, thy dwellings in self illusions
Fabricating for souls
Belladonna your favourite peace offerings

Your speaking smile
Explicit words of happiness
Estatic feelings thou brings
Enchantments a layer thou hides

Thou sheddings of light
Deceiving men and their deeds
Postering love
Forgetting life's hatred

Happiness
Your best addressed to all pains
Hope
Your cunning way to thou's enchantment

Promising Euphoria
A place thou led us there not

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson
This poem talks about the happiness and the illusions of happiness.
Bhill Sep 2020
as the world sleeps, the enchanting begins
being unseen and quiet, messages are delivered
information bouncing in and about all sleeping intelligence
apparitions and memories of long-ago actions
as the world awakens, the enchanting flees the mind
some of the enchanted will recall with faint impressions
some will remember nothing...

Brian Hill - 2020 # 265
averylia May 2020
I: WITCHLIGHT


That vividness—
     witch light in pearl eyes;
     I long to raise my ear to you
     for you gleam like a shell,
     your hollowness holding
     a delicate song, billowing
     out like a spell of sand.
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