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Amaris Jul 1
Skinny, papery, wrinkled, and pale
Running a rosary through her fingers
The air shimmers, balmy ocean waves that never cease
From the shaded marble step, I ask:
“Why do you suffer rituals out in the scorching sun?”
“My child, that’s how it’s always been done.”
Morrie W S Apr 30
a liminal space,
a banshee who screams for the dead.

ashes to ashes
we walk the earth
in cigarettes,
in home and hearth.

my heart breaks:
indocrinate.
feel the grass
beneath one's toes

magic where none
dares to go
Poetress2 Apr 3
They never want anything from her,
until they come to her door;
And when they leave, her tender heart bleeds,
for there's nothing they want, once more.
~
Even though she is young, she remembers,
the shame and guilt they have brought;
She blames herself for their mistakes,
and she wishes that she were not.
~
Each night since she can remember,
their nightly ritual's go on;
They climb in bed beside her,
she wonders what she's done wrong.
~
With roaming hands, they touch her,
in places that make her feel weak;
She utters not a single word,
she can't find the words to speak.
~
They continue to touch this child,
she endures this in heartache and pain;
"Adult Games," they call their playtime;
as the child lies there in shame.
~
And when at last they're finished,
they leave her alone in the night;
She doesn't know what just happened,
she just ***** her thumb as she cries.
Tanay Sengupta Oct 2018
Shattered frames of ashes and dust
Remnants of our deeds,
Like the fruitful tree in August
Unaware of its seeds.
Claiming to be intellectuals
Ravaging on the weak,
Tied down by our own rituals
And the words we do not speak.

Divided by our views
Fake is what we feed,
Battered and bruised
We watch as we bleed.








Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved.
Hello there, it feels good to write something after a long time. Hope you like it. Cheers!
nic carwile May 2018
My teeth slice into the warm chocolate
My guilty midnight pleasure
Only but a luxury nowadays
Red liquor pours from the hollow heart of the chocolate

Burning my tongue at first,
But settling to a light sting and a warm
Tingly sensation
I nervously fidget with my hands

As the soft chocolate dissolves in my mouth
To be forgotten eventually
Even if the trace of it
Remains forever

My eyes squint and my eyebrows tilt.
Should I take another one?
Perhaps the question is not should I,
But when will I.

Whether tonight or another night
I am addicted to the pop and burn
The liquor is red like blood
Chocolate soft like skin
And that alcohol seeping down my throat,
Burns like a cut
Andreas Simic Mar 2018
You scan the room
eyes meet
smiles are spawned

Blushes shared
sideways glances
embarrassment cascades

The dance has begun
awkward moments multiply
rituals are invoked

Stares become contests
flames of desire kindled
yearning turns to wanting

Time stokes the embers
into uncontrolled heat
that cannot be squelched

Days become longer
nights intolerable
until

That moment
where lips meet
and lust is born

Andreas Simic©
Everyone can remember theirs, yes?
Jen Snow Feb 2018
I
Love
The
Colors
And
Smells

Of
Warm
Cinnamon
And
Ground
Beans

Muffins
And
Green
Tea

The rustle
Of
A
Newspaper

The
Quiet
Clicking
Of
Keys

Gives my
Weary
Heart
A
Break

And
A
Safe
Place
To
Be
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