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rk Jun 2019
i crave a love
that is other worldly,
extraterrestrial
you are the cosmos
i long to explore.
Marla Feb 2019
A patch of green
Meets the burning red
Of my skin,
It's morning dew
Slipping through my arm-
Into the Abysmal
Inner-workings
Of a soul hidden from view.
Blue skies with clouds of white
Hanging drearily above my eyes;
Gazing hazily at the ocean
That is our gentle sky.
Perhaps we are like fish-
Only we swim with more esteem.
Our sentience something profound;
Lonely we sit in wait of dreams.
They, however, pass us by,
Shifting through the cycles of life.
From the deepest darkness
Until the morning light,
Their thoughtless will fuels
Their primitive might.
So burn out your wick
As you thrash about the sea-
Exhausted and melting.
Whatever fire you extinguish
Will let the cool water sink slow.
Then the sun will surely rise
As it always has:
Above us all, through mighty fire.
Permit the stars into your life-
They will save you from false desire.
She awoke in the clouds
bright, light, and ethereal.
her cheeks the color of...

The April breaking dawn -
Skye Marshmallow Apr 2019
Do you always speak in poetry?
...
Steamy breath swirls in the
Stagnant air, my hair hangs
Dusty smudges itching
Under paper skin
...
No, I breathed
...
Eyes shut, eyes open
The words dance, I hear their
Ethereal whispers, muffled
By masks and heavy cloaks
...
I miss you.
I miss you poetry, it's been a long time since I've actively been writing and something a friend said to me really sparked a flame in me again.
elle jaxsun Apr 2019
ethereal
and surreal
full of life
like moon glow over big blue sea

like a butterfly flapping her wings
as if blowing kisses right at me
i flutter my eyelashes back at the patterned queen
ethereal, like moon glow over big blue sea

sunshine on cactus flowers
smells like summer
enjoying stillness
ethereal
Eli Feb 2019
stardust fell down from her honey brown eyes
and kissed the neck of her wooden guitar
and inside her aquamarine gloom lies
truly the most ethereal gold by far
and for every single shaky breath
is worth one hundred dollars to a fool
and for every fragile thought of death
is cut exactly like a priceless jewel
her hurt worn like a 1950s fur
as she licks the rotten fruit of Eden
they rearrange her life all around her
into their own holy flower garden
she, seraph, looks up to the heavens gates
remembers how it felt, plummeting to hate
Pyrrha Feb 2019
A picture paints a thousand words
but even a thousand words
is not enough to paint
a picture-perfect portrait of you
too ethereal, too unique
pulchritudinous in the way you think

Let's take a hundred thousand pictures
so we can make a novel out of you
Let's take a hundred thousand pictures
so the world can learn that perfect isn't a myth
perfection is hidden within your smile
within your eyes, within your voice

Let's take a hundred thousand pictures
so I can immortalize you in my art
Let's take a hundred thousand pictures
and maybe then I'll have all the words I need
to make you believe me when I tell you
just how perfect you truly are
Over-Complicated Feb 2019
She giggles like a baby
And dances like an excited child,
Twirling amongst the wind and rain with no coordination.
Her smile is quiet and often,
I never really thought about how much I love teeth until I looked at how cute hers were,
Her canines sharp and ready to bite at my ear.
The waist on that girl is about the size of my neck,
Maybe smaller.
I wouldn't doubt it.
Pale milk in the moonlight is no whiter than her skin,
But it is not nearly as luminescent and ethereal.
Her freckled narrow nose shows how much she is in the sun.
She will run around, having kid's fun, until millennia go by.
Her ears poke out of her hair sometimes,
Showing themselves just to make me smile.
And her locks are thick, unlike her thighs.
Her hips are so wide and fluid,
But she does not worry of them.
Her only worry in the world is of her music.
Her multichrome eyes are canyons filled with amusement, joy and love,
And they are framed by long elegant eyelashes that tickle my own when she kisses me.
Her hands, ever so small but broken, rush around, messing with whatever there is to be played with.
And her tongue intrigues me as much as it enchants me. One flick of it, and I'm melted in her hands.
Her body is what I'd imagine heaven's angels to appear as,
Bright.
Playful.
Perfect.
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