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Snipes Jul 6
as gravity falls
I tell her
I gave it my all
drawing towards the center of emptiness
Rama Krsna Apr 16
singularity is
when you hold me tight
on a sapphire night,
magic made
twisted under satin sheets
beneath the nonchalant moon
 
your intent gaze,
cuts through mist of illusion,
gently whispering “detachment”
from a banausic existence
 
love and pain
swell deep inside my fragile body,
as i sink
into the infinity of spacetime,
where the gravity of your love alone
bends my aching heart

© 2022
Rama Krsna Mar 27
even
the beads of your sweat
warp
from the intense gravity
of those dense but sensuous orbs,
making a gentle detour
like a river,
before flowing into the whorl
of your beautifully chiseled navel

© 2022
was asked to write a poem where I was given three words that I should use. The worlds were sweat, gravity and navel.
Elymaïs Mar 4
A box fell from the shelf
Before my very eyes,
Spilling contents as it went,
To the place that it now lies.

I don't understand why
Certain things are beautiful.
But I watched it as it made
Its descent and I felt very
Moved.
With that
Vibe

You move me
Genre: Minimalist
Theme: Gravity
Johnnyqu33r Jan 16
Ripples upon the reflection
Show kindness to the disturbance
It has to endure the depths
While clarity disperses
Sunrise is only hours away
I can feel the warmth already
I know it doesn't stay gold
I know it can get colder
Breath leaves in wispy strands
Ascending hastily for miles
In time to wrap around the moon
I'll be wrapped in soft silver
Progressing while remaining
Absorbing all these changes
Everything is subtle at first
Yet I can't quite remember
Ever going up the *****
JV Beaupre Oct 2021
Where every thing is black and white
in technicolor;

Where no matter how absurd,
things turn out well;

A cruel place,
but not systematically so;

Where one thing is sure:
when the coyote treads air--
pedaling as fast as he can,
gravity prevails.

Beep, beep.
Taylor St Onge Jun 2021
It's the pilot light in the stove,
                                    the fireplace.  It’s the
night light in the bathroom,
                        the living room.  The
reflection in the mirror,
                  in the glass of my windshield.  The
      hum of electricity,
the sigh of the furnace.  

What do you mean I’m supposed to go looking for something that is constant?

The conjoined twin does not go looking for its sibling.
                 The brain does not search for the heart.  
The shadow always finds the body.  Gravity invariably
                                                    pulls the moon into orbit.  

The smoldering ache of loss
                  —hot like bubbling magma, bright like a solar flare—
                                                   is always there.  
Lurking beneath the skin.  The face behind the mask.  
                 Gnarled roots beneath the forest.

What do you mean I’m supposed to look for something that is a part of me?
Assimilated to my sense of normalcy.  Integrated into my DNA.
I can only do so much introspection before I go insane.
write your grief prompt #12: What would it take to seek out the smoldering ache of loss?
Melony Martinez Jun 2021
The world we make
Is a safe place to fall from
Spiraling into one another
Our souls orbit like Saturn's moons
Drawn by an irresistible gravity

The world we make
Is a journey most never experience
An adventure full of new discoveries
And unexplained connections
Guiding us toward one another

The world we make
Is familiar and foreign
A home for healing hearts
And building dreams
From the fractured pieces

Broken and beautiful
Raw and rare
Faith and fear
Grace and gratitude
Ours
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