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We grew in this yard
in between the broken glass and dog ****
vine inches
minutes by hours by days
roots crept in an inconsistent soil
and growing despite

To arrive now with weekend garden centre eyes
you may see weakness in some leaves
that belies the truth of a fragile fruit
long nurtured from blood
and uncompromising viticulture

And if you try to claim the bouquet
or the legs on that glass
or the complexity of hard fought tannins
and subtle warmth
and lasting aftertaste

Then you will see us spit
kj Oct 2020
did we have better plans?
was the world ours?
was it going to be
something we could be?
and with that wish -
with that breath -
with that hold on the world -
it was ours
it was really yours
but with that
maybe it was mine
basil Jul 2020
i'll hang on to tomorrow
until my fingers are fiery and blistered
and even then
rottenemotions Jun 2020
The night was ours and we shared with the ones who craved.
mica Jun 2020
it all started with a little touch.
i fiddled with your fingers until it ended up intertwined.

i looked at you and you looked back,
just an inch of space between us.
you whispered to my ear and i listened.
suddenly, your lips were on mine.

the sudden action reminded me that i had no skill when it comes to responsiveness.
i felt embarrassed but brave to admit because of these feelings.

i told you i didn’t know how to respond back and you said you’d teach me tomorrow.

how i long for tomorrow to come,
but dreams don’t have tomorrow,
it’s all in our heads.
Bea Aguilar May 2020
basil May 2020
i'll never say
"all rights reserved"
these poems aren't
really mine.

as soon as you
with my inky words,
they are
idk. i hope you're doing alright, lovely.

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