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Bragi Oct 6
Loving you was like I jumped on a train at the last second; the doors sliding behind me and I almost missed it, the carriage that held you. As I took a seat I noticed you there, sat reading a book, holding a sweet smile across rose tinted cheeks, the glasses you wear hanging tightly atop your nose. I never want to leave. I stop, start staring like an idiot and its obvious how I feel, but you haven’t noticed my existence. The book is written by someone who stole your heart and even though I hope you finish it before my stop I know you can’t. I just wish you’d have looked up. Just once, at me. I wish you’d have seen what I’d seen looking at you one last time as I stepped off the carriage and onto a platform that lead somewhere you would never know. Somewhere we would never be.
To him, the city is a bustling empire
Of which, at night, she becomes the umpire
Rather than believing she acted out on her dreams
His heart on his sleeve, concealed in fine blue seams.

She knocked on her door. He appears in the frame
His scent intoxicating, she greets him politely
In his tight embrace, she is no longer the same
Stepping into a world where he is hers truly.

She seeks his eyes, he claims her mouth
Above them dangles a lantern and a moth
That can’t take its eyes off them yet struggles
In its bulky body, that their laughter can’t muffle.

Trapped in their desire they undergo the wave
Spindrifts of two bright souls that love attempts to save
The moth can’t take the heat of their burning hearths
Language traces the unfathomable story of their hearts.

Through speech and touch they exchange many an innuendo
They shape the shadows of the city with a fingertip
Sisyphus is the idol they both seem to worship
When they part, for they must, they mutter: “A presto!”

October 5, 2018
For M and A
two leaders once met in Helsinki
for talks that looked somewhat *****
as it turns out
                still nobody knows
what they were talking about
and that indeed smells rather stinky
Apropos D. J. Trumps frequently confessed love for Putin and their kind of mysterious talks in Helsinki in July 2018.
Meet me at the place where the sunrise and sunset are joined by the prettiest clouds.

A tranquil place where times stood still for more than one eternity.

Stretch out your limbs with Lotus hands and play the spoons for me.

Breath out your life, then breath it in expanding endlessly.

The mother of creation, the atomic act, the divine self, a metaphor for hunger.

A life filled with space gaps, dust, prophecies and jars.

A universal love that's born of dreams and fallen stars!

The proprio-ceptive tools that launched the ships to voyage within ourselves.

To seek out that illusive and wilful spark within our hearts and souls.

Stretch out your limbs with Lotus hands and play the spoons for me.

In that tranquil place where times stood still for more than one eternity.

Meet me at the place where the sunrise and sunset are joined by the prettiest clouds.

Stretch out your limbs with Lotus hands and play the spoons for me.
Don G
Don G
I found a kindred spirit, perhaps there is a kindred place, somewhere nice that we could meet.
Aarnav Sep 24
Everyone is afraid,
Of being lonely,
It's hard to explain,
People don't get,
The importance of,
Social interaction,
People come,
And people go,
But some people,
Never let you go
It was a day of being separated forever;
How could I forget our last meeting of ever!

The sun was hidden somewhere, behind the cloud;
and a dusty wind was to flow,as if the nature tried to play a sorrow-tune!

Suddenly I found my eyes to be stared at you,
And our silent tears,became the witness of our presence,
after a two years of silence...!

You asked me to have a snap with me and to frame it forever, somewhere in the corner of your heart.

I could feel your silent wish for me,
Looking at your eyes;
and when you stopped your lips,twice-
  from the attempt of saying me something;
My eyes somehow captured the scene,
and you would never understand, my that silent pain!

The album of our 'days of together' was turning over, Infront of my eyes;
As if the memories, just got rememorised!

A lots of things were to tell you, a lots of tears to share,
But the time reminded me, we are not together!
I would never forget the words of your eyes,
When we made a silent promise to remember,
And to never meet again, forever!
WordsHelp Sep 18
Souls meet,
Either soul not knowing, not understanding
And yet, still feel something.
Reasons–unknowing–we met and
Chances are, maybe we belong,
Holding the others hand, or maybe we belong
In passing memories. But
Now, I can’t help but
Guess that maybe we met on purpose.
Devin Ortiz Sep 9
I fell hard for a stranger,
Her words, the pauses between them,
The boldness in which she spoke,
And of course the confidence in her approach.

But, woe is me, captivated fool.
Palavar was a sweet heat exchange.
Fast passion in shared interest.
The flurry of tongues refreshed,
Impressed by the company of another.

I left with only a name,
No good at this game,
Of courtship.
K Sep 2
I have walked this street so many times, in heels, in sneakers, at day, at night, when it's beginning to rain, when the sun is shining, when the moon is out. Same destinations, different stories every time. We cry while we sing "I will survive", we run across this very street with feet that didn't feel like feet. The sign was alive! And suddenly we were too. A stranger lit their cigarettes, I saw the french guy from my class but ended meeting another french guy, one I wasn't expecting. Kissing didn't feel like kissing, dancing felt way more than dancing. I suddenly felt like dancing with you, and I don't dance with anybody.

Also j'ai parlé un petit peu de français avec toi.
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