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annh Nov 2020

Name the word, for the word has a name.

Listen to it breathe. Let it lie lightly in the mind and liquid

on the tongue. Bear its essence forth, its personality and its intention

- conceived briefly, discarded readily, pronounced forcefully.

How does it sit with you? The spread of its silhouette suspended

within a silent interval. How does it move you? An attitude framed by

the gesture of a hand. Is its pitch sharp or flat, its texture course or fine?

Allow meaning and resonance, intonation and feeling to merge unencumbered;

the syntax of the imprisoned soul, emancipated by a river of sound, to mould

the shape of your aboutness, around and within, beyond and in spite of...

And hear consciousness dance.

‘Then love knew it was called love.’
- Pablo Neruda

‘Any language is a supreme achievement of a uniquely human collective genius, as divine and endless a mystery as a living organism.’
- Steven Pinker, The Language Instinct: How the Mind Creates Language
word  stopped
as you gazed

it feared
to be told

and was pronounced
was  wrong

so it stopped
no word can describe your smart
Vale Luna Nov 2017
Poison only tastes like poison
After you swallow it
Too unfortunate
To admit
You've been murdered
Before you're dead
You know it's only a matter of time
Before you're coughing up red

This is your nightshade
Your parasite
Your venom
Your kryptonite
You know the harder you fight
The harder back - the poison will bite
Don’t slow down
Do take a breath
It’s the last time you'll breathe
Before your death
Or refer to it as “eternal rest”
To try and ease
The tightening in your chest

So panicked
So manic
Feeling entirely frantic
With urgency
But you were poisoned purposely
And you know without a doubt
Who set out
To knock you out

You'll look across the room
You'll feel it in your veins
Your eyes will lock with hers
You'll overflow with pain
It burns you from the inside
Nowhere to hide
She's filled with pride

Cuz she knows
She's the one who murdered you
And she also knows
That you know it too
The reason was clear
Why she put the poison in your throat
And when she kissed you
She knew there was no antidote

She leaned in close
So you'd hear the words that she said
And from what she whispered
She was pronouncing you dead

Suddenly it occurs to you
That with the venom on her lips
She will die too
Cuz love only feels like love
When you're falling into it
And poison only tastes like poison
After you've swallowed it.
Love is death... to some people anyway :)

— The End —