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Amy H Aug 2016
time and distance
too little and too far;
my love has sailed
away…
an anchor never hoisted
and sails with no wind
while I wait on the rocks
eroding.

salt is cruel
swept in my wounds
where sun burns it in
like crust…

why wait?

the tide is rolling
but you my love are working
to remain
away.
time is on your side
not mine.
I left the rocks so it is time to share this one.
Amanda Francis Jul 2016
Let me tell you what loving you feels like.
Like I'm a snail, like you're salt.
Like I fell into you and now I want to bubble and die.
Cee Ching Jun 2016
When the salt chuck was mine
I promised to dance as the ocean waves on the smiles you grant

For the sea I was a trap of destiny
To the sand I was too slippery to stamp

I embraced the wind bearing the taste of brine
I rendered a pledge from your bright eyes into the sea’s chant

Every edge of this tedious isle
You were the unending aria

At dawn, you would passionately rip the queen conch
The hush of the gale would turn into wail

The sun would set as the shore would reflect
Your voice a ditty, a glassy reverie

When the hurricane arrived
You were carried away by fright

A zephyr into a whirlwind
Drawing abyssal rumpus into ordeal

I tried to hold your hand tight
But you whispered “this is what it’s supposed to be”

You carved the salt into your skin- a sight of crystalline art
And breathed “i found a better shore than your stormy coast”

It was only a sojourn you said
So you left my briny, dull and murky

The salt chuck was a wreck
The queen conch was whacked
To Adrianne who left my heart shattered for he fell in love with his best friend.
My friends would spend our lunch hours snorting salt
But none of their sight turned into cobalt
So all is well
Everyone likes to point and yell
Over trivial matters
But we know to stay away from drugs
Make sure you take your shoes off before stepping on the rug
I don't want leaves and mud
All over my floor
What, you thought I wasn't going to be any more
Than I was?
Very funny, I could of fooled myself too
Macy Opsima Jun 2016
There was a boy beside the river and he smelled like poetry.* His lips watered the flowers in my tongue and soon grew infused with words and metaphors. His touch delivered a tidal wave of poetic shock that awakened my dull veins. But one night, he had his arms around me but somehow I still felt cold. And my lungs are suffocating with toxic that he hid behind his artistic mask. When he was mine he drowned me in poetry. When I was his he drowned me in salt water.  My spirit is lurking in the riverbank where I first met him. There was me, above the water, my poetic veins contaminated by salt waterthat aggravates the wounds inside of me. He was sitting there by a stone, smelling like poetry, looking for his next victim.
Dylan Halvorsen May 2016
It poured out her mouth and fell on each season
To walk with beasts in relation to reason.
She expressed all she had and it drenched dry earth
Letting the brush remember it's worth.
Not that of flower but that of field
And more emphasis on quality and less so on yield.
It reached dry sands but stopped to implore
The salt knew, and her water was more.
None left to give to and not one who would take
There was lots to go around, all of it heart without ache.
Bilqis Apr 2016
And
         however beautiful
          the ocean maybe
          you cannot drink
             from its water.
Salt Lake City
Without the Salt
Just emptiness because they told me I couldn't have sugar
But that's one of my favorites
Why would I go without it?
I think people love to tell others
What to do
It empowers them strategically
It makes me wonder
What really is there for them to make such an act
K Balachandran Apr 2016
Flickering candle light, braving wanton winds,
adds an unexpected melancholic twist;
a losing battle against formidable odds ends.
Though meant to make us feel romantic
even at the worst imaginable end chapter of it,
a doomed love that made moon beams burn,
itself bogged in morass, caused volcanic burst
in callous minds that walk backwards in time
who did everything to stop us dead in our tracks.

I am not blind not to see the quivering,
drops of tear, in your once much adored eyes,
I won't see any more after crossing this point of no return.

Doesn't this look like the perfect **** they had,
a story, in the middle brought to a deliberate end;
we can't stop it anyway, except acting out our parts
that we didn't see us doing  til this moment.

All we could do is this, give a loving burial
to this doomed love, let romance be the theme ,
in candle light we'll quietly cremate it, may the  remains of it,
ashes wind scatter,be the salt of the earth, for ever.
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