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Xoaquín Oznian Feb 2019
[Did You Wrong by Sweater Beats & MAX is playing in the background]

Lies
All I want tonight
Lies
All I need tonight
Please,
Touch me so...
Please,
Touch me, whoa...
♥Feelings ♥
the feeling
Body

⚡E⚡
⚡L⚡
⚡E⚡
⚡C⚡
⚡T⚡
⚡R⚡
⚡I⚡
⚡C⚡

Yes.
Do it again.

Please,
Kiss me, ooh
Please,
Kiss me low
Kiss and blow

Please,
Take control
Breathe,
Let ☆YOU☆ go

Moan
Scream & shout
***
Let it out

'Cause it's so easy
To run from the truth
pa3que Feb 2019
i danced with you in madness,
danced, because i wanted to,

i’ve had enough of sadness,
i took a breath, that was my cue,

you were standing there and talking,
talking to a guy in blue,

and i just started walking,
without knowing what i’m gonna do

you see i’ve seen in blindness,
but now the world is blind instead,

since when did clocks go timeless,
and why my cheeks are burning red

i know it’s you, the reason,
the reason why i think at night,

no, i couldn’t call it treason,
it’s you, for whom i’d always fight

we slow danced with the sparks,
kissed with eyes and met with soul,

but then you figured arcs,
and only told, a dance you stole,

with air you turned direction,
and like the rain you eased away,

now i weep at my reflection,
your dance was nothing but a play.
pa3que Feb 2019
what a rose,
he, henry.

what a rose,
with cotton thorns.

cotton touch,
and lips of wine,
how i wish
he could be mine.

what a glance,
his eyes of pine,
let’s share a dance,
please, don’t be shy.

a twist, a turn,
and down the hill,
it heats, the burn,
it always will.

what a rose,
a rose that’s bending.

bending,
with my every touch,

it is time i stop pretending
no one could carry disaster such.
trf Feb 2019
my caution tape series
cold wax & oils, an apogee of scars
yellow redactions cover the senses
four paintings so far
    
Warwoman's eyes
an irreverent man
the thinking pipe
and estrogen

my five senses
render resentment
and my method
masks the pain

searing pain
my body convinces
poppy seed bagels
to braid blood
blinded from the meaning of time, habit is action without thought or purpose
zz Feb 2019
I caressed a stranger in the tube
brushed my fingers across his

For a little second desperate I became
to  feel the human´s warmth

I wonder why God gave me this body  
that no one never touches
angel Feb 2019
I lay down
your creamy expanse
unto the marble surface,
as if milk made love with
the stars in the galaxies.

I write you out
as pleasant simmer
of pulverized charcoal
and bloated glycerine.

I splatter and spread
fine dusts of Carica
in temperate motion
to touch the sleek edges
of the vanilla branches
on your person.

I hold and dip
my feathery digit
amongst rose water
to grasp the flowers
that frames your face,
like light morganites
that hail from the west.

I cast you off
as the blue sea engulfs
the life from the waters
where life swims with
stable beginnings
and whirlwinds of stories.

I finish you
by letting molten pearls
lither your dark onyx orbs,
surrounded by your lakes of gelatinous almond,
like shooting comets
finding rest on land,
as lightning's faint and close
but never quite touch.

I made you
with intrinsic detail and rawness
to give you the life
that you may never have.
may these words show its own form of art.

090219; 07:29 --- revison due to incompleteness from original file
Kaeli Hearn Feb 2019
The trees are our backdrop; the canvas is painted with deep greens, soft reds, and vibrant orange.

We walk under the draped blue September sky.

You are wearing the old black vans that you claim you've had since you were 11 years old. They have a small hole near the toe.

I am wearing the mint, coffee-stained high-top converse.

We walk side by side, close, but barely touching. Our fingers teasing one another with small touches.

The wind pushes us forward, deeper into the tree's belly.

We explore. Explore caves, rocks, waterfalls, trails, treetops.

You tell me that trees are like poetry to you. You grab a small yellow flower. You rip off a piece from the bottom, scrambled it a bit in your hands then slowly turn me away from you. As you brush my curled hair closer to you, you tuck the little burst of yellow in my hair.

"Perfect."

Those trees were poetry to you. & even when you are now thousands of miles away, they are your poem to me.
Kaylee Ann Feb 2019
The joy of your touch leaves me breathless
Your warm air leaves me gasping
The ecstasy of your presence leaves me high
Yet now you are gone
I'm left alone in a cold room
No warmth to embrace
Though the thought of you still leaves me stupid high
My mind is making up for you
All of our wasted
Seconds
Minutes
Hours
I imagine your
Touch
Breath
and
Love  
Then I am back in the moment when I am wrapped in your love
Safe
Warm
and
Loved
Cheesy love poem
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