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Koggeki Feb 2016
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With Both Feet on the Ground

Hello, dear-one.
What say you in this lowly place?

"When twilight traces the terrace,
Touch the torch-sky with the tip of your lip.
               A sweet heat
Will draw your willful mind,
But watch! The torch-sky takes:
               Heart-stems
               Drip
               Drip
               Petals shower
The firelight blaze, like my root vein,
Spills languid and warm across the sky.
               Beauty in elation
               But now breathe out!"

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Then Into Deep Water

Say, dear-one,
What's all this now?

"The blue of night is sweeping over the torch-sky,
And shadows steal swiftly as silent silhouettes,
               Come coldly dancing
Do not disdain—dreams form feather-light foam,
And fade heavily in a salt-wash, flooding fervently.
                Covered darkly
                Step
                Step
                ­Shiver forward
From terrace to sea my foot falls easily.
Then the eerie eels entwine in the brine.
                Feeling supine
                Let the deep creep
                Until next time."

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But the Canvas is Brighter Still

Stay awake, dear-one.
Is there not more to tell?

"The search for halcyon has wrought hush-flickers:
Stars  staring brightly stripping night's dark domain.
               Drifting dazedly: humorous
'Theirs is a humming neatly humbling hysterias.'
Whispers Nyx, 'Dwelling hinders what dreaming may fix.'
               Sleeps slips
               Blink
               Blink
               Morning stands
Beacon! Bright butterfly, beckon bravery!
Billow boastfully—this day will be mine!
               Keep in mind,
               It's always divine."

Very good, dear-one,
A fine farewell.
Another poem I wrote awhile ago
Sydney Queen Apr 2015
You smile like dandelion wine.
I sat easy, despite my shaking hands.
Hands and knees and hearts
strike roots in the earth.
Week old bruises lace my spine,
and you knew the names of all the flowers.
So yes, I’d give all my tomorrows
for a single yesterday.
Yes, I’d still burn the whole world.
I will still buy the matches.

You are the only god
I’ve ever believed in.
I appear to have this thing for summer.
AM Mar 2015
Sunsets are so much more grand once you've known sadness,
reminding you of the halcyon days from every slash of red through every majestic cloud,
melancholy swallows your veins in such a zany manner that you almost saw it coming.
The light bends regally through the gaps of clouds to put a warmth to you,
even if you're sitting alone in the shotgun seat of his truck, waiting for the tank to fill,
even if you're hoping no one in the lot watches as you bury your sobbing eyes into your aching hands,
even if you feel as though you're growing smaller,
and your soul's sinking deeper,
even if you're tired,
even if you cannot bear to utter the sound of the radio,
even if your mind is slipping,
but you still love him,
and you can't tell if you're losing him or yourself,
and it's like you built your mountain on a pivot,
even then
the light will still warm you.

— The End —