Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Apr 27 Beau Donner
 Apr 27 Beau Donner
All of us tied to an ocean
of inhalations & exhalations
breathe waves of a tide
desire a moon’s intervention
receding with a notion to return
and returning
to a sky
falling to an ocean
reaching for a surface
this mouth remembers
these eyes do not blink


B­y Data © April 2021
A pearl encased in a grotesque shell.
An unknown beauty.
pain p u l l s all
to itself
 Jan 13 Beau Donner
 Jan 13 Beau Donner
What I want starts with an intake of shared air, a leaning-in.
My spine a star-gaze arch - a neat reflection of yours.

A mouth-to-mouth silence broken, made whole - by small language
born of not knowing, and of knowing too well.

I want to trace symmetry in your neck, your back: Learn the shape
and position of vertebrate, of the discs in between -

Infuse them with an energy to resist time, to resist
history’s repetitions.

I want my weighted thoughts to wash through the
base of my skull into your cradle-hand,

Want to hear the rush of them down your arm, their echo
through the in-and-out spaces of lungs.

I want them to pour fully formed from your feet to the floor
- through nerves un-frayed and strong.

Remember: It’s a want my Love, not a need.
What I need is you here.
virtual school moments (in senryus)

I forget that I'm
virtual school, because I'm
really in my room.

And start brushing my
hair or singing a song I'm secretly
listening to - until friends text me!

My mom forgets I'm
in, comes in, to yell
at me about dishes.

My cat walks across
my keyboard submitting "84;'/jifgvbzws"
as a test answer.

"It was a typo!," I complain,
“You still got an "A"," she says.
"But I LOST 4 points!!" Argh!
"Get a life!," she says.
virtual school is so strange, so lonely, so liberating and convenient.
Blades  of grass

We die

Be happy

2 particles



Spae time

Next page