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Valentina Piro Jun 2019
Hear the sound of a far gone chime.
Hear it mixing with some romantic poem you read
the night you couldn't sleep;
the night you thought you'd take your own life,
then gazed at the moon shining in some new way and went back to bed.
Hear the sound of the body lying next to you.
His tangled hair.
Feel your nails creaking on the wall.
Feel yourself crawling into some stranger's sheets, like a parasite, a disease.
See your mother cutting the meat on your plate,
watch her door shut in your face.
See your lover cutting your flesh,
then walking away from you.

What have you become?
Have all of your pieces come together?
Throw them in the air like confetti, let them fall on your head, watch them build up,
late November leaves in a puddle of mud.

I grow old, I grow old.
Do I?
Puzzled.

Cradle me with lullabies
Tear my heart down with goodbyes.
I am young, I am old,
swirling water on my tongue,
crying speechless tears of pain,
speaking languages in vain.
Though we walked our roads this far
we never figured who we are.
Valentina Piro Apr 2020
Ah, to bear a greenhouse heart
to let sprouts of passion grow through your soil
and manure your land with dread and with joy
and water your greens with canned memories.
To let your lush heart root inside of you
and cover in moss your veins of stone
curling vines around your bones
daisy nails upon your toes.

Be careful to enter it
the heat might smother you
my weeds might feast on you
in my greenhouse heart.
But were you to linger and hold your breath
were you to find affection in death
we could dwell in the heat of a plexiglass shrine
and fashion a home in this greenhouse of mine
Valentina Piro Aug 2019
May the gods above have mercy
on the man who knows to much,
he's got wadding in his head,
thoughts so muffled and so numb.
Children pray and children wander,
in the churchyard they play dice,
in the woods they find a wonder,
they see magic in red skies

And every raven is an omen,
Under every sage a coven,
Oh dear sweet, devoted lovers,
mother nature says it's over.
You've received the curse of knowledge,
Sometimes ignorance's a blessing:
Unforgivable yet tender
Is this mistic haze descending.
Valentina Piro Jun 2019
For every piece of hair swallowed by the sink,
For every sharp bone in my body that's now gotten rounder
And every flap of my soul I puked on the truth
I now kiss myself.
I kiss myself in the mirror
And merge with the reverse;
Kiss my toes for they tickle the sand,
Kiss my eyes for they twinkle like starlight.
I make love to myself in the mirror.
The world is no longer away from home.
I am my body and I am my soul. I come together: I am whole.

— The End —