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#apricus
Apricus came upon a beauty far younger than he, she lay in the forest glade like a daisy among the weeds. Her body wet from the emanation of the morning light it coursed through gaps of green in the furrowed canopy and wrote atop her flesh with the knowledge of our ancient galaxy. The fragile flower insisted she travel with the poet and Apricus could hardly argue against her plea, he took her hand, yet she held tighter as they walk beneath the dogwood trees. The buds of spring began to blossom and blooms of white hung like gowns among the leaves. He faintly heard the sound of church bells ringing calling from a far off village he could not see. Not yet ready to return to the societal herd Apricus stepped back, his eyes turned crooked looking towards the wilderness from whence he came but her touch had taken hold. He realized now to break from her was to break apart from something whole and thus he spoke *We learn when leaving those we love, even as our paths have crossed and intertwined that no matter how hard we try, our destinations, they are different sometimes*.
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Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 3:59 PM UTC
Yet She Held Tighter
The desert gradually turned to a grassy thicket tamarack branches turn towards the fleeting dusk above, ancient starlights fade in cimmerian skies their ghostly glow choked by the sullen silhouettes of churning charcoal clouds against the abyss. The world feels as though she is being devoured by nothing and emptiness. Again the tortured-self awakes inside of Apricus wrestling with its bindings merely out of gall. It elicits ache in the belly of its captor, the kind that only heartbreak makes inside us all and once the tantrum cease, it laugh a little before it speak *The darkness comes, not for you and I alone but in the end all life is its sacrifice, why struggle any longer to change the minds of sheep? Has the battle not hardened our flesh, sharpened our teeth, has it not made us hungry for what lesser men eat?* A thunderhead above him began to coil tightening its hold around the moon, each rotation siphoned the lunar light till the well traveled soil of the trail turn to a thin brush, then into a heavy wood. Ask not if you shall stray from your path rather ask if you will have the constitution to find your way back in the black of a stormy night.
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Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 11:32 PM UTC
Stray From The Path
The wind swept across sheering dunes of white sand the way certain kinds of dancers sway like flames The way young children often play free of their father’s shame It filled his lungs with the fire of his innocence and the longer he inhaled the larger he grew no sooner had he rivaled mountains did he hear the cries of his former self this being bound in chains spoke thus *Be wary Apricus, many great men have had their heads over hills and their fates delivered them to the stake. Are you willing to burn, to crumble into ash and return to the dirt of mother earth for all that you believe?* Broken by doubt, the mountain becomes a man again but the heart of a giant still swelled inside of him It raged against his fragile frame like a violent slave until it grew weary of its own restless thunder and there it sunk into the deep, the deep frore of a wintry slumber Sleep for now my lively child for the hearts of giants reside inside of all men but first they must learn to love themselves before the giants can walk the earth again
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 9:19 AM UTC
Awaiting Giants