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I dare you to stay here for a day
find me in-between white sheets with yesterdays hair
and your t-shirt hanging off my shoulder
find you with your silk skin tangled in mine
let's forget the difference between the two
call out of work
tell them you aren't feeling well
but tell them you're in the sweetest hands
we can watch the sun rise and fall from the same positions
we can be the only lovers left in the wicked world
find my hair caught in your mouth and my feet curled against the edge of the bed
call it working from home
Nicole Moran Feb 11
Budding, glowing bulbs. They
are shedding their stemmed leaves,
blown away and bound by nothing.
They are eating themselves alive
from the outside in. They are missing
the train by mere minutes.

Then October came along with its
spindle-like skin, weaving wool and
silk through the fibers of her
fragile life, being. She is nylon,
polyester, a poorly written trope.
She is not bound, not made by the
She had a love in her heart
And never let it go
Even when it led her astray
And every night, she lay alone and pondered
Asking questions to the midnight sky, and receiving moonbeams for answers.
Her nightgown fluttered in the dark room like the wings of a butterfly or moth
Her eyes gleamed in the night, like moonbeams of Heavenly design
Her hair is strands of silver silk woven by a goddesses loom
Her face as pale as the face of the moon
Her feet are bare and she treads with an airy float
And she dances
A magnificent flowing whirl
Entrancing all those who see her, a Heavenly girl,
The woman in the moon
The inquirer of the gods
And her wings flutter softly in the spotlight the moon's rays have created for her
And she flutters back home.

The people below watch the iridescent butterfly take flight, and they think to themselves "What a lovely night it is!"
nim Jan 28
soft cries
in your arms
silky layers
covering our secrets
murmuring words of
affection and love
let's be together,
your hand in mine
until the world is gone
S O P H I E Jan 27
with an accent of blood
a foreign tongue
vowels that sound of metal clashing
with fire flowing through her veins
armor for skin
feet that crush the earth beneath her
with electricity streaks through her hair
iron filled lungs
each breath invitingly toxic
with lips of silk
a voice cut from steel
thunder and war in her bones
with a grin made for battle
eyes speckled in ash
striding, powerful into the arms of death.
soft off-white pages,
velvet leather spine,
wrapped in cloths of silk,
with edges, gold inlined
i want to publish just one book,
a book of poems; a really *fine* book of poems

'milk and honey' by rupi kuar is a good poetry book btw check it out
Shofi Ahmed Jan 15
Delivering the magic
at the tip of the Moon.
The silken blue half-light
beaming in full!

Ah, let there be a gap
between the one peeled halve
and the unleashing other half.  
The vanished sun will bridge it
far from the unseen pyramydon
shining upon a crescent moon!

It doesn’t have to be in a mo
leave some rooms.
Let it flow to chockablock
over the running brook.

Heading to the up and down ocean
Let the rivers flow in all diversions.
By the way, shorting it to half would do
my half full glass is half full.
you are my home, my peace
a fortress
surrounding me
like soft silk on smooth skin
a force
that drives me
to places i've never been

- katrina ******
instagram: @wordsbykatrina
twitter: @_wordsbykatrina
Thursday Jan 10
So you know who you are
It doesn't mean you have your **** together
Just because you carry an umbrella doesnt mean you know the weather
You're not the designer just because you bought the sweater
Smothering an animal doesn't automatically make it leather
Besides, there are other things that die under pressure
So whatever
Just because you read a book once doesn't make you the author
You're not a sail boat just because you can float in water
Not fitting in doesn't mean you're from mars
Just like e-cigarette smoke doesn't turn it into cigars
Having a car doesn't mean you know where you are
They said you're bright
You're not a star
You don't have your **** together
You just know who you are
You're doing better than I am my friend
Bliss Jan 5
Your face bring permanence
to the colours of spring.
You make my fate to
bow down to me.
If i have your sorrows, those
of the universe mean nothing to me.
Your love make my days and nights
look like wooven in silk and brocade.
You are my alma-mater of love
who teach me the purity of love.
You doesn't make my heart to skip a beat
infact you add more to them.
Your face give me tranquillity
in this hubbub world...
Hey, You are my infinite sky..
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