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Mia Taljaard Jun 2018
her soul a sweet elixir
crafted from all the bitters that grew in lightless hollows  
shaped by the hands that never reach out from the dark
boiled and brewed over such sorrow
her soul a sweet elixir
a poison
but she was good
a poison still
Yanamari Feb 2018
I'm being engulfed
In the clutches of darkness
It's slow-motioned embrace
Calculated and unforgiving
Unrelenting
It's greedy hold
Swallowing me
It's fingers sliding
Over my arms
My legs
Holding delicately
Yet firmly
Sliding over my neck
Caressing my chin
And lapping at my ears
Tainting my field of vision...
The vast emptiness of space,
And the passage of time,
The void between an atom’s nucleus
And her orbiting particles,
The fact that we are made of elements
Forged in dying stars,
And, not to be forgotten,
The perplexing reality
That we are little more than empty space
Floating on a green and blue island
That somehow beat trillion-to-one odds
In a lifeless, desert void
Where the shadow-signals of our loneliness
Carve brave new trails through the darkness,
Only to fizzle out
And die like a match struck
In a lightless room,
There one second;
Gone the next.
I read somewhere that radio signals sent out into space degrade in a couple of dozen lightyears.

You can find more of my poetry at caitlincacciatore.wordpress.com
I miss you like the
Cloudless night sky would miss stars
If they were stolen.

— The End —