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being in the arms of an old friend,
feels like a fire that's been rekindled.
there are no lustful feelings.
just warmth.
that is able to melt the ice sculpture in my chest,
that i call;
my heart.
Juhlhaus Feb 5
Even though I walked for an hour
In the snow melt mist
Threading my boots
Through the brown salt muck and flotsam
Winter's junk food wrappers
The city just stared vacantly
At its own face in the lake ice
Seemingly as uninspired as me
Not every day can be poetic, right?
no clouds,
warm weather
melting the ice and snow
Similar to the way
that your
melted my heart
Just a smile, but a big difference...
Eleanor Sinclair Dec 2018
As my hands moved down his slick back,
I counted the rising goosebumps.
Then he leaned in close to me
and speaking his dangerous words said,
"I want you."
Somehow, on that cold winter day, I melted
Jodie-Elaine Nov 2018
You watch the plastic frame meld into itself,
The second hand turning inward
Smoothly running down the walls like fingertips trying to find their hands,
Tapping the pencil against the desk,
Tapping soles onto tiled floors,
Toes rhyming in spite of themselves, waiting.
Ode to Dali. 2015.
starchild Oct 2018
i imagine you rotting. rotting and melting. flesh becomes matter as it falls to the floor. we wear our hearts on our sleeves and the floor wears our skins and muscle. that’s how it always goes, right?

why are you looking at me like that? you know that we’re the same (we’re the sane).

getting back on track, you’re falling apart as i watch (you made sure i did; i couldn’t ever take my eyes off you). you’re completely exposed now, bones and all. you say to me “its like i’m looking in a mirror”. at least, you said with your eyes. your lips are on the floor, sinking into the stained carpet (believe me when i say this because if they were still attached i would have kissed you right then and there).

suddenly, there are tears in my eyes. you try to wipe them away, but they don’t stop. you pick up some of your muscle to try to soak them up, and i tell you that’s not the kind of tissue i need. you laugh, but nothing comes out (your lungs have already decomposed. it seems you’ve already forgotten).

and then i look away. my tears dry, and, as i look back, you’ve reformed. good as new. not for long though, as soon as a minute goes by you start this cycle again. you’re rotting. i look away, you’re back. rot, return, rot, reform,

don’t you ever get tired? (i do.)
i guess you could say i’m “back” but was i ever really gone?
MicMag Sep 2018
so effing hot today

my skin melting
fat crackling
muscles sizzling
flesh evaporating
bones cracking
skeleton crumbling
burning down
to glowing embers

even my ashes echoing
lamenting the heat
Did someone turn on a giant oven outside?
M Solav Sep 2018
In the Melting of Days
We were Swept like the Fog
While a Sunshine of Rays
Made us Crawl in the Mud.
Written in February, 2017.
Amanda Aug 2018
I am counting every breezy day
Waiting to feel the smile of May
I watch and enjoy seasons fight
For dominance night after long night

Heavy lies the weight of Spring
While Summer is harnessing
Warmth to pull us out of suspense
Away from the sun's negligence

Shadows mill uneasily about
Leaving traces of shade and chill throughout
Foiling Spring's clever plan
Disappointing woman and man

The shift in weather nearly complete
Children soon will run with bare feet
Snow is melting, no longer white
Summer is just within my sight.
Written 4-19-12
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