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How the career
Of so many
Tell their own
Carry their own
Hold magic in
Chosen over
Telling me stories
Maleficent 2
ALesiach Jul 24
Warm days
Heavy nights
Mosquito bites

Dancing bees
Delicious honey
Sweet tea,
Yummy, yummy

Swimming pools
Shade trees
Staying cool
Ice cream

Summer showers
Juicy peaches
Budding flowers
Warm beaches

Vacation's over
School begins
Time's slower
Summer ends

ALesiach © 8/2016
life choices cast in iron skillets,
presented choices that possess no flexibility

twice, she asks me today

morning fruitage, on offer,
peaches ripe to rip real sweet perfection
from your eyes to the remembering salivating mouth,
sweet but just **** enough
strawberries that will wince your tongue buds
intolerant of either, but perfect together

acorn squash,
over roasted to be the violin section
to your barbecued chicken orchestra serenading,
but which shall be the sweetener,
honey or maple syrup,
similar but different

the kitchen floor explosive shakes,
pans to the floor fall, eyelet unhooked all,
spices from cabinets burst forth,
kitchen mittens slapping each other
in utter disbelief

when I reply,
let us choose both!

for there is no bifurcation,
no line of demarcation
on our taste buds
this a truthful -
our lives a perpetual blending,
both will login lead to a
the right and proper ending
Savouring  ever
The behoof of cheer
White crane of hunger
***** the peach bitter
The desire went sour
Alleging for better
Written in Lai Poetry form.
The lai is another French form. It’s a nine-line poem or stanza that uses an “a” and “b” rhyme following this pattern: aabaabaab. The lines with an “a” rhyme use 5 syllables; the “b” rhyme lines have 2 syllables. It feels kind of like organized skeletonic verse.
Do you not see me sit and consume her?
The ex, the past lover.

I tell you she’s only good on the outside,
That the closer you get to the center
No matter how soft her skin,
How sweet she is just under her flesh,
She could be perfectly in-season, temptations taking months to taste.
you always find a way to that hard, dark, sour core—
Unbreakable by design.

That’s what gets passed on to her next in line,
I tell you.

You nod distracted,
You aren’t paying attention anymore.
I am beyond being seen,
So, I **** her in plain sight.
And in my words, a part of you that still listens understands.

Your subconscious stores her name amongst the other dark things
That turns your stomach inside itself and warps the corners of your mouth, sour.
And you finish reading your article.

I crack her in-half and expose the pit, where sweetness could be
But she refuses to die easy.
She cuts superficially, and no blood falls from my hands.
Does that make me beyond saving,
beyond human?
Or did my body make a pact that there would always be a last time when your name could hurt me?

I eat her until all the soft connecting tissue is gone.  
And next time I ask,
You tell me, oddly enough,
you don’t eat peaches anymore.
Cece Feb 15
I don’t know why
I love peaches like I do,
perhaps because they're sweet
and remind me of you.
Maybe because they’re messy
and their juice gets my hands sticky,
so I don’t forget the lingering taste.
It could be because the smell
brings me back to past summers
spent with friends just peaceful,
eating peaches and spilling tea.
Peach tea, I guess.
I don’t know why
I love peaches so readily,
Perhaps because they're tender,
and bruise just as easily as me.
i love peaches
Cece Feb 8
The sunset girls with warm smiles and sweet laughter. With ice cream, diamond earrings, diaries, romance movies under fluffy blankets, strawberry shortcake, lemonade made slightly too sour with a pink paper straw and perfect ice cubes.

The midnight girls with a wild side and messy hair. With perfect eyeliner, surprising laughs, black sketchbooks, late night ramen runs, stolen oversized sweatshirts, black cherries, fluffy socks under polished black combat boots tied in a neat little bow.

The sunrise girls with addicting voices and perfect high ponytails. With slogan t shirts, velvet scrunchies, red lip gloss, chocolate covered bananas, paintbrushes and easels, early morning hikes, coffee with creamer, foam, and probably too much sugar.

The sunshine girls with bright grins and  kind eyes. With light blushes, sweatpants, rainbow sprinkles, nails painted, flower tattoos, peaches and cream, messy bangs, sketchbooks probably covered in stickers and crop tops just short enough to tease, paired with cute bralettes.
that I had
to wash both my elbows
best peaches I've ever tasted, so I'm always shakin' that tree
Cece Oct 2018
I’ve got flowers
of all types in my pocket,
stars hung up
in the sky,
a dress
made out of sweetness,
honey, ice-cream, and pie.
I’ve got plans
for some tattoos,
a tiny blue flower,
stolen right from the clouds,
peaches and cream,
and a strawberry,
picked from the sunset,
delicate, pretty, almost a dream.
I’ve got a lifetime left
of laughter,
of tears,
and hearts shattered,
swept up, stored away,
memories clouded by sunshine
and London fog lattes,
talking with friends
in a timeless, gorgeous café.
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