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wren Dec 2023
...and words still come to my fingertips as i undress you in spirit.

almost-friend, hold me tight and love me true / stare me down, see me as i am: disquieted, patinaed and accustomed to pockets / loose change, a worn copper penny; incoherent, the thrill and lurching sensation of gravity / blooming in my core as i die in my dreams; afraid, for all that word means / of the figs that lie waiting on the branches ahead / ample and pregnant with sweet-rot possibility;

we will labor, singing of light and covalence / until dusk is shorn of its gloomy nightgown / staving off the cold with what tea, what liquid light / the yielding sun could gift our wide eyes: / just ask, darling almost-friend / and i will provide, because…

you are a fawn, limber and knobby-kneed / and i am but a stranger waxing melancholy in stolen glances from afar / as you come into focus in my wood / drinking from my fountains and eating from my briars / leaving me to wonder, “how could i not love such a soul, astute and gentle as it is?” / and so i offer you food and drink because i have nothing else / you could be in want of;

but such things are not for me to behold / and i fear that you will molt your coat as seasons change / the down behind your ears yielding to antlers sprouting like milk teeth from gums / tendering tender for tenacious, grace for gruesome / that you will forget the hands that have proffered to you / sustenance and healing in your darkest hours / for to see others consume satisfies my hunger / to see others delight, my vicarious feast;

in my mind’s eye, you are unclothed and angelic / even with the ophidian basin of your back pressed flat against the tiles of a scalding shower / even with tears ravaging your honest face / here, the masquerade, the spectacle and circumstance, ends / because your rapture will betray your guilt / and we will summit new zeniths hand-in-hand / be baptized, enthralled in the fresh, algid, restless oceans we called forth from the far reaches of our globe / with nothing more than the labyrinth-etched palms of our hands / charting the great floods of yesterday / inking them into the annuls of a friendship (nothing more) for the ages;

celebrate holier mysteries in the anamnesis of that day / we rested upon sand fine as powder, crusted on our knees and elbows / as the ark of our covenant neaped and sprang with cyclical certainty / almost-friend, smile me but one more drowsy floodgate grin / rest your raven-crowned head upon my bare chest / laying in that tender way for eternity / and never again will i ask that wretched question of you: "are you with me?"

no, darling almost-friend: forget me not / because fair weather or poor, my love will remain / echoing truer far and far more sweet / than the oblivious whisper of a forest brook / or the stentorian thundering of an ocean reclaiming what once belonged to it / to know that i am cared for even a fraction of how i care for you is an honor/ and as but a stranger gazing from afar, i promise you this: i will far sooner take myself for granted than you / even should no tea remain to keep us warm, i will hold you till the storm passes / and forever will your name be engraved herein.
song of solomon 8:7: "many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it."

after the film "your name engraved herein". this one's been sitting in the drafts for a while, i thought sharing might motivate me to write more ")
ivan Nov 2024
eyes of a fawn
innocent and wide.
its gaze on its mother,
its pelt spotted
like the shadow of the trees.

a cricket chirps,
little fawn looks back—
a stick breaks,
little fawn is gone.

hurt, touched, dead.
the mother was far away now.
it’s okay, little fawn,
it wasn’t your fault
for being born.
poor fawn
Faith Feb 2024
I am the deer
Large shimmering eyes and slender limbs
A fawn with spots still on
Like the baby’s breath of the meadow in which I lay
Mocha fur shining in the morning sunlight
Face wet with dew from the chill of night

I am the deer
Mangled on the side of the road
Intestines on display for the vultures above
Legs twisted into a sick jigsaw puzzle
Killed by the man who worries about the machine
And drives away with apathy unwavering

I am the woman
Long, toned legs
Striding down a city sidewalk, wind in her hair
A statue, a monolith, an icon
Like a being carved from polished marble from the raw earth
A face of beauty incarnate

I am the woman
A dismembered body with DNA foreign to herself
Lying in a lake, the soil, a vat of oil
The threads of clothing cut too short like Fate’s own hemline
Killed by the man and his ego who worries if blood washes out
And walks away with apathy unwavering

It is a tragedy as old as time
That Mother Nature birthed daughters
Jellyfish Oct 2023
It's hard for me to conceptualize the expectations you try to hide,
You're all so sneaky when you ask for my side.
When I say no, it's as if you think I'm being snide,
But all I'm trying to do is make strides.

Understanding that "no" is a full sentence for me,
Grew difficult as it was never an option, you see.
Anytime I could refuse, I would with glee,
Seeking control, even when tempted to agree.

The lack of boundaries harmed our natural bond,
I search for our connection, but when you're around, I tend to fawn.
I dislike this transactional, distant bond.

I ask for quality time and am met with fees,
Being fed a lie that your love language is acts of service, please.
Because I do nothing to help you out, it's decreed,
I must not care; I feel like a bad family member indeed.
CautiousRain Jan 2022
I'd be such a good girl for you,
making sure to cram and compartmentalize every piece of me
into whatever shape you'd prefer;
I've never known any better.
It's what I've always been told.

If I'm not here to make you happy,
then what is my purpose?
I've never known to take care of myself,
but I would take care of you in a heartbeat.

I don't know how to stop,
I don't know how to love correctly,
and I definitely don't know how to be loved.

If I keep giving,
what does it mean if you give back?
I think I'd feel nauseated knowing
you spent so much energy into me.
I'm not your sink, I'm the output source
and I'd never let it be the other way around.
And this is why I need to heal and get out of the fawn response. I don't have to do this to be loved.
Alicia Moore May 2021
I miss the friend that kept me safe,
it kept me warm in my fragile state.
I now walk proudly and without hesitation,
knowing the friend that became my saviour
is thriving surrounded by its fellow nature.
Do you wonder, like me, if fawns miss the warmth of the grass that protected them before their legs could carry their weight?
BLACK KETTLE

I am a black kettle
But inside of me is a colourless water
I sit on fire everyday
And they deny me of the dinning table

I am a black kettle
Albeit, people make me what I am
Yet, I wouldn't prefer to be in isolation
On the zenith of kukuruku's hill

I am a black kettle
Never judge me by my look
My dream and goal gives me the temporal colour
Inside of me is my natural color

I am a black kettle
But despite the litany of woes
I have a consolation
As long as there's an entity called washing and rinsing
I will always have my true nature retained.
     -'Bintan Ola
      ©2019
METABOLIC LOVE
Behold the strength in your weakness
Which is capable of giving vigour to my membrane
Chlorophyll in chloroplast makes the green plant blossom
You make the smile on my face radiant

Come, let's mix the right nucleotide sequence of our desired RNA
And build the sequence of our desired protein
So that the expression of our gene
Will be the desire of friends and relatives

Amidst thousands, you're the only one I chose
Your hotness could denature enzymes
There exist a thousand of competitive inhibitor
But by the words of my mouth;
None would fit to my active site

I want to fly on your wings to the horizon
Regardless of the barbaric thought of men
For I know;
All unwanted functional unit of life
Will die by apoptosis.
       -'Bintan Ola
       -martinsolabintan@yahoo.com
Like lilies in grassland,
The eyes find joy when it behold the beauty in you
A necessity; Unique work of nature

Like the air that runs through the lungs
You're a universe beyond mitochondria
Hyperbole lost its meaning on you
Because all descriptive words are understatement

Thus, let thy beauty be an appraisal and accolade
For other wonderful works of Olodumare

I clasp'd my hands in ecstasy
For you're the sovereign beauty which i do admire.
      -'Bintan Ola
It made myself freak
For magic words of
love , read and lyric
Which brought
Me a handy hat-trick
Thanks to all including Fawn,perry, cj love, carlo c gomez, jahanti khare, poorvi, katelyn, jamdhi, ben etc. for sharing so much of their works. The read is the most powerful word  and appreciation is the biggest reward .
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