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Lacey Clark Jul 2020
do you think
wallpaper wants to talk
to the people in the room?

don't you think there's wisdom
in wallpaper?
how it absorbs the stories and
the spinning revolving door
of people who come and go
Sophie Sharp Jun 2020
Why do I always sit alone?
Why am I afraid?
I just can't ever condone
The stupid things people say.

Is this problem theirs?
Or is it purely mine,
I guess nobody cares,
For me nobody pines.

Why don't I loosen up?
Why don't I just have a drink?
Because my head is way too full,
I can't even hear myself think.

I know I don't need to keep this up,
I could just please the crowd,
But so far I've still got some luck
I don't want to run out.

Some day, someone will get me,
They'll understand my ways,
Then together we can party
For the rest of our perfect days.
MsRobota May 2020
shy
I prefer silence
because I am shy and awkward
but I hope you stay

because I like
the sound of your voice
it's sweet and strong
SA Szumloz Apr 2020
I am as meek as a rabbit;

The embodiment of shyness
Like a nun who took a vow of silence
I am not looked at any other way
Except a girl who's face is gray
But if only people knew,
If only people looked through,
The keyhole to my imagination,
They would think I am a creation
Of the devil himself

I may no speak, but trust me
I am more predacious than you believe.
Thoughts?
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
Your core,
this folding door,
guarded by the sentry
of your knees,
the iron vice
of your thighs,
allow me, please,
this much:
one kiss,
one stroke,
one persuasion,
that you might
this night, my darling,
find it in your heart to
open to me.
Two Way Mirror Dec 2019
You can clearly see out
you can speak, even raise your voice
you think you're being clear, emphatic,
maybe even a bit loud
but actually,
no one hears or sees you
No-ones’ even noticed
you're on the other side of the glass
Two Way Mirror Dec 2019
The curtain,
the veil, the barrier, the obstruction
whatever you want to call it
that distance between you and the rest of the world
the no-mans land between borders
the space in time between receipt of input
and your output
where all the frantic calculations are made
where all the possibilities and ramifications are considered
before blurting out something misjudged
more thought doesn't always lead to a better outcome
you can overdo it
I saw you over there,
Across the street.
A beautiful angel,
With a smile,
Even more pretty.

I glance your way,
I can't help it.
I trip,
I almost fall,
But its totally worth it.

You saw me looking,
Catching my gaze,
Holding it.

My heart races,
My body starts to sweat.
I look away,
Panicking.

I take a moment,
To act like I wasn't looking.
Eyes darting around,
Pretending;
Like I was looking for something.

I gather up the courage,
To look at you once again.

I turn my head to you.
And all I see,
Is an angel,
Smiling back at me.
Stephen Moore Jul 2019
Nursing cracked paper backs and dusty reference works,
Softly uttered beauty,
Topped by brown bun glows in alabaster skin,
Bespectacled,
She whispers,
Quiet please.

Words slip through fingers,
Stretched,
In constrained eroticism,
A country woman in tweed.

Her passing stamp,
Over a pristine white sheet,
beckoning,
“return”.

Reading her unspoken words,
A chapter opens,
I succumb to her prose,
Love,
I suppose.
A restrained sensuality is somehow more intoxicating than something more brash. Someone who’s life is order and system, I imagine, contains the makings of collapse into blissful release.
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