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dorian green May 12
i don't believe in soulmates,
but i think we came close.
skin to skin, i read your palm,
but how was i supposed to know?

what do you do when your red string
gets caught in the door?
i never could untangle it,
and i didn't know how to be loved by you anymore.

i ask constellations how you're doing
and dodge your calls.
in the summer, you'll trace my palms
and we'll defy stars as trivial.

there's always something about good things i want to ruin.
there's no version where orpheus doesn't turn around.
it's not so much precognizance but
digging up the same old burial ground.

it's not so much what you read
in between freckles and lines, but the sense
of connection, a familiarity of skin on skin
and a practiced willingness to drop the pretense.
monique ezeh Jan 2020
Looking for the “watermelon girl” from Sam’s Club earlier. I thought you looked like you were planning a party, but maybe you just really liked fruit. I watched you put six melons in the cart and then make a call. You nodded and held the phone between your cheek and shoulder, adding seven more melons to the cart. One of them dropped and rolled towards me. I picked it up and gave it to you, joking, “Have enough yet?” (Stupid joke, sorry) You responded, “I hope so. She always loved melons.” Then I noticed the tears on your face. I left you to finish your conversation.

Anyway, I was the guy with the bad joke and the brown hair. Wearing a green button down and blue jeans. You were the girl with dark curly hair and a blue dress. And the watermelons.

I hope it ended up being enough. I hope you see this.
Amarys Dejai Aug 2019
But you will soon leave back to the place you have been longing for.
And when you get there, another woman will find her way into your veins. She will pull my hairs out from your carpet, wash my fingerprints from your walls, and throw out my skeleton that you kept in the closet. She will try to lay me to rest, but I will always be restless. I will be doomed to haunt a heart that never belonged to me and to linger in the moment when our eyes first met.
I cannot go back to the place I have been longing for.
Last night, I dreamt about him. In my dream, he told me that he loved me, we kissed, we touched. I woke alone, heartbroken, but also a bit relieved. He’s moving away, and it’s time for us to bury out love. A part of me still believes that we just met at the wrong time.
Yasha Harkness May 2016
Baby when I first saw you
I was giving blood
Your smile wasn’t even directed at me
You made more than just my blood flow.

Baby when you spoke to me
Teeth biting that luscious bottom lip
Something grew in me like certain magical beanstalks
And of course I had to climb that.

Baby when you touched my hand
You steadied me physically
Unsteadied me mentally
Because you were softer than a Johnsons baby.

Baby when you gave me your number
The foundations of my soul shook
I aint saying you were heavy
But you were a weight I’d gladly become Atlas for.

Baby when we kissed for the first time
I was dreaming
It never happened.
And aint that a ******* tragedy.
to the one that walked away

— The End —