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"dilates" poems
“And then, you’d break his heart.’ ‘I can’t ever think I could do that. I couldn’t break anyone’s heart.’ You look at me. The tempting colour of your eyes dilates into grey. A blank moment; a break in the cinematography. At night, I can’t sleep because your smell lingers on me like cheap perfume. What do I do, what do I do?
0
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 5:59 PM UTC
Perfume
Eyes see Stares lock Yours to mine Mine to yours Hearts flutter Beat like drums We aim ourselves We begin to run Time dilates It seems to stop Yet you are closer I can´t wait anymore And in that moment The distance is null We embrace eachother We share in our warmths... ... ... ... Words fail me... Where to begin? I call myself a poet? Huh I wish Would a poet lose his words? His inspiration fade? Would his pen run dry? Are my hands so afraid ? And yet Nothing else matters I can only feel How the ice shatters The glow, the heat It sparks life anew It gives me hope again The closer I get to you
0
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
Embrace
These dead stares across the shopping mall Wouldn't I care if I could have them all Fingerpainting these eyes **** photos: camera shutter sighs But her breath is morse code And my words are falling Her dial tone dilates As her moans are calling She fell in love with a filter And I fell in love with someone's daughter We took pictures in the summer time And she threw them into the water When she lies, her cheeks flush She swears that she doesn't care much, as she sits in her underwear with a light grin and a heavy heart. She felt her pulse by the bed light She was sad that she was alright I watched her paint her dad on fire while holding infant her. I heard the window shatter She never said what was the matter I found her on the driveway, broken like a family picture frame
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Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
Daughter
In experience you have learned which tunnel to explore. You enter this tunnel for promises of "gold and precious things!". But this promise did not enter through ear; but thoracic permeation Well prepared having spelunk'ed before; light- your pack light- in hand. Climbing, scrounging to escape the tight entrance with jagged rocks and false paths it's many turns and falls- although you cannot keep your flashlight straight experience triumphs, as in a maze done quickly once done before. One strong pull emerging through; cave's pupil dilates. Ground so smooth and wet though wise to walk we tend to slide                 why? Faster to the gold Faster for exhilaration Faster because faster! and... why not? hitting rough spots mid-slide pain in debt to speed. You let your feet gain some tract as the tunnel    narrows Solomatic mind; without doubt- body complies. A slight gust tickles but this tunnel is not through... Alas! A shining shimmer is seen! The earth is rough to navigate difficult; (but shimmers numb the sense) pain soon saturates and stops your smallest movement, heartbeat, fidget, thought... The light is moving near? As tunnels break space and time and especially direction feel as though you've lifted up and the cave, the light, and all rushes to you. The sound of breathing relocates, oh, yes that's you. gun to back, hostage of Aphrodite running, sprinting, breathless you seek this precious shimmer soon to realize it's coming faster, harder, alarming to you. Looking ahead- Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap the sound the light bequeaths not from ten feet but maybe five, you realize it's you heavy- pack heavy- darkness follows sprinting, pushing through. And the entrance could not be any farther.
0
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 5:24 PM UTC
Titillating Tunnel~
In experience you have learned which tunnel to explore. You enter this tunnel for promises of "gold and precious things!". But this promise did not enter through ear; but thoracic permeation Well prepared having spelunk'ed before; light- your pack light- in hand. Climbing, scrounging to escape the tight entrance with jagged rocks and false paths it's many turns and falls- although you cannot keep your flashlight straight experience triumphs, as in a maze done quickly once done before. One strong pull emerging through; cave's pupil dilates. Ground so smooth and wet though wise to walk we tend to slide                 why? Faster to the gold Faster for exhilaration Faster because faster! and... why not? hitting rough spots mid-slide pain in debt to speed. You let your feet gain some tract as the tunnel    narrows Solomatic mind; without doubt- body complies. A slight gust tickles but this tunnel is not through... Alas! A shining shimmer is seen! The earth is rough to navigate difficult; (but shimmers numb the sense) pain soon saturates and stops your smallest movement, heartbeat, fidget, thought... The light is moving near? As tunnels break space and time and especially direction feel as though you've lifted up and the cave, the light, and all rushes to you. The sound of breathing relocates, oh, yes that's you. gun to back, hostage of Aphrodite running, sprinting, breathless you seek this precious shimmer soon to realize it's coming faster, harder, alarming to you. Looking ahead- Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap the sound the light bequeaths not from ten feet but maybe five, you realize it's you heavy- pack heavy- darkness follows sprinting, pushing through. And the entrance could not be any farther.
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71
Recently it seems every time we talk our cacophonous voices don't sing. The harmony's off-- lost it's charming ring. The tye-dye mind's eye melody is mellowing into a gray spring. And I'm wondering why? But... I think I know. Only asked cause I was hopin' you might hum some other musical notes, ones that won't turn this song into a black swan dive forced to call the huntin' dogs to track back to a time where you and I laughed freely. But there's this feeling that this is how your other he must have felt while you and me were undoing our belts-- yelling & screaming as my parents were sleeping upstairs above-- we played each other like saxophones to this grand Nirvana relaxed crescendo! But as this poem progresses the tempo stiffens--     your voice lessens-- as the harmony's off-key and the melody's riff softens. It's not hitting me hard like a gong- feels like two people singing different lyrics into the same microphone. Someone with synesthesia can see our colorful speech atrophy instead of pirouetting in turquoise dreams. If that sounds harsh, sorry, that's the reality I perceive-- we don't want each other to leave, But our avoidance of labeling what we are also established what we weren't and now this playful...thing? we had feels like a breaking carafe as it hits the floor. I want to continue writing you more poems and songs but it's hard when the harmony's off-key and losing it's charm.    This new lentando^ tempo's like a left arm going numb. I want to keep composing but it feels like water instead of kerosine pouring on the fire that was inspiring as this mournful melody dilates throughout my being.
0
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 12:37 AM UTC
Pouring water on the music
Recently it seems every time we talk our cacophonous voices don't sing. The harmony's off-- lost it's charming ring. The tye-dye mind's eye melody is mellowing into a gray spring. And I'm wondering why? But... I think I know. Only asked cause I was hopin' you might hum some other musical notes, ones that won't turn this song into a black swan dive forced to call the huntin' dogs to track back to a time where you and I laughed freely. But there's this feeling that this is how your other he must have felt while you and me were undoing our belts-- yelling & screaming as my parents were sleeping upstairs above-- we played each other like saxophones to this grand Nirvana relaxed crescendo! But as this poem progresses the tempo stiffens--     your voice lessens-- as the harmony's off-key and the melody's riff softens. It's not hitting me hard like a gong- feels like two people singing different lyrics into the same microphone. Someone with synesthesia can see our colorful speech atrophy instead of pirouetting in turquoise dreams. If that sounds harsh, sorry, that's the reality I perceive-- we don't want each other to leave, But our avoidance of labeling what we are also established what we weren't and now this playful...thing? we had feels like a breaking carafe as it hits the floor. I want to continue writing you more poems and songs but it's hard when the harmony's off-key and losing it's charm.    This new lentando^ tempo's like a left arm going numb. I want to keep composing but it feels like water instead of kerosine pouring on the fire that was inspiring as this mournful melody dilates throughout my being.
Continue reading...
52
These skyscrapers are monuments built by God. See how the moon is shining tonight, how she is a perfect circle as minuscule as a pupil. But I’d like to pretend that she dilates, waxes, herself to become a halo for these monuments that were created like ziggurats to reach God. Because, all the while, they’re really as holy and immaculate as the night sky above them washed by the river of luminescent car headlights flooding the streets and dead stars flowering above like Jesus once stood naked on a river to be purified.
0
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 2:28 PM UTC
Baptism
Oh there is a ball in my stomach a tight knot of anxious confusion. It circulates and undulates dilates and twists throbs grows... absorbing my life's energy. "Let it free and watch it" It emerges from my stomach... the twisting blue-black mass convoluting, churning in the space in front …and in a moment it dissolves… My mind is clear the rain falls gently outside almost like snow... Moving with the gentle breeze... What power in coming into awareness, Into relationship with those things which pain me.
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Feb 17, 2023
Feb 17, 2023 at 7:15 AM UTC
A secret of life...
She brought comfort, The few minutes granted by the press of the snooze button. The shutter of eye lids reaching the corner of rem. Choosing instead to sleep rather than face the reality of being away from her. The hesitation of opening eyes, a morbid reality. Waking up, coming to the realization that the only perk life has is when your truly unconscious. Lost in a soft dream. Inhabiting a space somewhere in time that feels like eternity. An ethereal experience. Filling my lungs in a universe filled with her. A place containing a medium that dilates pupils behind closed eyes. Fearing that any moment might be the last. A unexplainable language, depicted as a snore. The circulation of bliss. Smiling in a state of sleep. Interrupted by the sound of an alarm, signifying that our time will be cut short. Annoyed by the sound of reality blaring it's alarm. Half opened eyes feeling around to silence the light of a phone. Modernized alarm. Made convent. Lost in the sheets. All made possible by the 10 minute break of the snooze button. Picking back up were we left off, for 10 long minutes that seem like a lifetime. All thanks to the press of a snooze button
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Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 3:18 PM UTC
Snooze
She drank her coffee too sweet and drew herself to the smell of new pencil shavings, like a pupil dilates in light, telling itself to expand, to drink up more and more. She fumbled on old strands of her self rising like mug steam from poetry she wrote only three months ago. Wide-eyed, reading "when one leaves, the past is a fetish" in rounded, running letters bubbling up over each other - a gravy she found herself constantly stirring. And sunsets, dashed with pink syrup, are a passion ('passion' being her 'word' - a skin-colored tattoo, a branded prayer, an incanted torch) Sunsets. Sour golden orange laced with strawberry wine. Bittersweet. Passionate. Her.
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Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 3:04 AM UTC
motley me
My nails dig into the skin on my arms when I let myself think over what you've become to me: your eyes are the needles I stick everywhere into my veins, viciously, selfishly, fiendishly, begging you look me over, once, twice, thousands of times in all the unused, neglected spaces. I yearn to inject everything, anything you have the grace and generosity to grant unto me-- to shoot up and float away-- so that as your love pulses through my bloodstream and dilates my pupils I can revel in the explosion of sensation and sentiment that has too long lain dormant in the chambers of my heart. Your voice puts shivers down my spinal column, drawing with the softest touch a line from its base to the baby hairs at my neck, It churns the contents of my abdomen slowly, the intense heat creeping in a motion like the currents within the core of the Earth: liquid heat rising, cooling, falling, heating, rising again-- a cycle by which ignites a white-hot fire from the depth of my being by which no other soul has managed to awaken before yours. I'm so terribly, helplessly, uncontrollably addicted to you, my Darling. You've become quite the drug to my ever-craving palate of desires, and to go too long a time without that appeasement, the undeniably luxurious romantic gratification by which you so masterfully exude for me is to refuse the dregs their drugs and I cannot fall into withdrawal again. My nails dig into the skin 'round my head tearing out hair because I've gone mad over you.
0
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 5:47 PM UTC
Drug Habits
My nails dig into the skin on my arms when I let myself think over what you've become to me: your eyes are the needles I stick everywhere into my veins, viciously, selfishly, fiendishly, begging you look me over, once, twice, thousands of times in all the unused, neglected spaces. I yearn to inject everything, anything you have the grace and generosity to grant unto me-- to shoot up and float away-- so that as your love pulses through my bloodstream and dilates my pupils I can revel in the explosion of sensation and sentiment that has too long lain dormant in the chambers of my heart. Your voice puts shivers down my spinal column, drawing with the softest touch a line from its base to the baby hairs at my neck, It churns the contents of my abdomen slowly, the intense heat creeping in a motion like the currents within the core of the Earth: liquid heat rising, cooling, falling, heating, rising again-- a cycle by which ignites a white-hot fire from the depth of my being by which no other soul has managed to awaken before yours. I'm so terribly, helplessly, uncontrollably addicted to you, my Darling. You've become quite the drug to my ever-craving palate of desires, and to go too long a time without that appeasement, the undeniably luxurious romantic gratification by which you so masterfully exude for me is to refuse the dregs their drugs and I cannot fall into withdrawal again. My nails dig into the skin 'round my head tearing out hair because I've gone mad over you.
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31
For the words you utter I pry fervently If is mould of dust;just like me I just don't get it And finds it hard if I do How can mere words be so hominid Soft and **** I just don't get it The very sight ****** and cloack me with lewd And make my entire body sweet Like am dip in a jacuzzi Full of chocolate and sugar And lays my head on pluffy pillows As it swift to the lanes of my mind And twine my hair so brilliantly I just don't get it Who taught it my weakspots and hormones? Who taught it all those gentle touches; And ***** talks? It whispers into my ears Nuzzling my lobes and rings I just don't get it It defiles me completely When it massages the pits Of my elbow and knees As my pupil dilates and mutters"I want you"so gently I just don't get it It makes my ******* get hard,and lurch And bust my blouse I gasp for fresh air When it kisses all over me,and ends in the middle of my tighs As I drip the tears of pleasure,and moans helplessly I just don't get it It follows me everywhere Even in my bathroom When it grips my moldy towels,and gets deep within me And makes my heart beat faster than the athletes I just don't get it Not even in my sleep will it let me by When it watches over me,and get into my dreams And brews creams in my pants I just don't get it, Your words,your words Your words is a man Your words ©Historian E.Lexano
0
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 6:36 AM UTC
Your Words ®(PG 18)
filled up with enmity coiling up inside The chest billows up Thy want to heave it out Then destined to tranquility The claws scratch the flesh Death gnaws on the remnants of longevity Unless visions have a chest To burst out into effervescence Spontaneous sigh is kicked out of your breath The clavicles sharpen, the eyes ogle ahead The nothingness dilates The flicker has no entrance for itself to adumbrate For utopia has its own gore To marvel over inside, The plasters of bliss Have guffawed over the gullible dusk The gloom has left with a whisper A muttering not to be heard The relief has sewed on flesh With the clouds coming out of thy outburst The relief rebirths the serenity Has been meandered, halted For thou shed leaves Making agony to clouds of no return Utopic defiance, the idiosyncratic anectodes Stains of externalized innundation For the literal existance of hope.
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Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 7:13 AM UTC
Illusions
Each day is the same. Wake up, set the binary coordinates, wait. Pour over the data but nothing breaks through. Something about this storms ionic charge dilates signal strength. I've recounted the rations. There's time for one more shot. I see her face. Sometimes it's as clear as day. Others, it's lost in the void. I will find my way back to you. That was my promise.
0
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 11:26 PM UTC
Satellite
how eager we are to forget where we came from, as though we weren't dirt beneath God's meticulous manicure mere fractional eternities ago. you stopped talking to me just days ago, but it feels like epochs; time dilates in strange manners, it truly is alien. there are civilizations that simply do not measure time; things happen when they happen, and that is that. foreign concepts and foreign languages slipping across the tip of my tongue, while foreign tongues work their way into your every orifice. I'm laying in bed, last night was a bust, I drank a little bit of whiskey but not enough, it rained but only briefly, and I did not have fun but I cannot complain; at least I don't need you anymore.
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Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 10:57 AM UTC
foreign
The sun set blue Cold as ice it set at noon Delicately drifting through. Sooner no later the hazel eyes kissed the horizon bringing so much more than understanding to the ***** Smoke drifted leaving her body loose. Corrupted allegations Dense regulations Her hazel eyes kissed the horizon no sun insight. Just radiant green streak with an orange light. A pupil that cautiously dilates. She was my morning light
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May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 6:53 AM UTC
Hazel eyes on the horizon
“I’m sorry black eyes don't get enough love. There's Hazel eyes, Amber eyes, But what about black? Black the colour of the deepest night Of the universe and the unknown. Of coal and obsidian. Of the abyssal depths of the ocean. of the pupil that dilates with passion, Don't even get me started on when the light hits them. Diamonds and stars, Mysterious and alluring. "But aren't black eyes so common?!" So is the sky, So is the earth. So is the beauty of the night sky and the Milky Way. All mysteries and secrets of the universe have come together just to be put in your eyes. Isn't that beautiful?"
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Dec 27, 2024
Dec 27, 2024 at 5:23 AM UTC
The black magic eyes
I journeyed to an unfamiliar place, To frame your known and lovely face Within the small yet feeling space Between the fond intention of my hands. And, had no plans for you to know How time dilates the slowness of Our separate days, where we both stay Disguised, among the wrong established choice Which younger voice; thought right. Yet for tonight, you let me see How it could be if others claim To own your common name; were through. Why then, should I feel blue, Now that at last, you’ve said “I love you too?” © James Rainsford 2010
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Nov 19, 2010
Nov 19, 2010 at 7:38 AM UTC
For Sally
I'm letting you go, dear past you're the ether that scientists thought to carry the light they discovered you don't really exist (the speed of light is invariant for every observer) I have things to live, new adventures to imagine the dream scared to wake up dear, it's time to take a chance... 'Cause She won't be there again to write in my cherished books And I will give her a happy ending and say hello when we meet again She was so nice but left unexplained and there is nothing to do And if you by chance knock my door again, ask for a cup of tea please remember you won't stay after 10 unless you're real I'm keeping some music preserved, you know like the stars save a million years that you can travel to they found a lifetime it's actually enough (time dilates and space contracts) I have memories to make, friendships to shield the soul afraid of dying hey, now learns to live and fly... 'Cause He won't remember the tears I shed some nights before Or how he kissed me in the parking lot when we thought nobody watched They were so sweet, dear, but have never happened at all We can talk like old friends, forgotten lovers, listen to some songs please remember you are a treasure but you are gone
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
Goodbye
Take me out on a non realistic trip detach me from my inner self when they threw me out on the island I didn't miss my land I didn't miss my people I gazed on the freezing moon I watched the boat coming and going but I did not beg them to take me back to the city where the look in everyone's eyes is just speaking of hatred when you look into their eyes and all you feel is hate from a person maybe they aren't real maybe I am not just what I think I am if this isn't real then I'm just an idea in someone else's brain you don't get the feeling when you're trapped you burn like fire in the deserts of Egypt you crawl on your feet crumble and fall like a stone but you're nothing like a rolling stone let the sun touch you until you sweat let the forest's parasites live inside your hair a meteor was crossing the sky I looked into your eyes and I saw the sparkles in your eyes how it dilates slowly with the breeze.
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May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC
escapee
You look at me, that is all it takes, and temptation tumbles towards me Electrochemical codes stretch themselves thin taught and winding cooing and fluttering in axonal cornices Echoes rush through neuronal chambers, charged and pulsating. My mind in harmony and fully drawn to you synchronized by the network. The messages reach my cortex, aesthetic appraisal follows I know not the meticulous, miraculous mechanics of such a wonderful process but You beauty is magnified now. Touch receptors tell my whole body to tingle Sensory splendor is so scary. The cascades have commissioned the deeper circuitry: Those ancient blueprints of visceral demands from which wicked temptations of man are born, the veteran fossil of primordial impulse, a buried luxury, a relic: My reward system permeated by your kiss. I am dangerously, fearfully humble to the power of pleasure It is awake in the under-structure of neurobiologically institutionalized euphoria, ablaze in the basic backbone of bliss It is stirring in it’s ancient wires. I can say I am somewhat privy to the elusive nature of experience. being a human being alone grants me this being a scientist of the brain only dilates my sense of love’s incomprehensibility. And so I sink into your touch, your presence unresisting.
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Mar 8, 2023
Mar 8, 2023 at 4:33 AM UTC
Neuroscientist writes Poetry II
you smile, and a person dies. you smile, and the sun bows a tiny bit lower in the sky. you smile, and two people are born. you smile, and a note trills its way to my ear's tympanum. you smile, and a moth finds its way to the dimming porch light. you smile, and the incense stick accessorizes with a shawl of smoke. you smile, and every vein in my cheeks dilates. you smile, and there is a marvelous lilt to your voice. you smile, and my clever anecdote is stuck between your teeth. you smile, and our eyes dare each other to grin even wider. you smile, and somewhere dawn breaks like a bull in a china shop. you smile, and life roars.
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Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 11:53 AM UTC
you smile.
i could spot him in any crowd even though he blends into the walls i want his warm hands and the way his fingers lace around mine i want his soft lips and hard kiss and how he would take violence and passion and mix the most pleasurable serum i’ve ever tasted i want his eyelashes to play my heart again like his fingers play guitar                                                                                                                             beautiful he told me he wouldn’t forget how our lips locked                      i wont forget that either and that if we lived in the same universe we would be lovers like something rarely seen                      i wont forget that either did you know that when i see you my heart dilates so to take in as much of your light as it can and when i hear you i develop a fear of going deaf because if i don’t get your notes, i'll be alone                                                                                                                                                  ******                                                                                                         not high.    i’m not sure anyone can hold my interest the way he does i wish i never let him go every day there’s something i’ve been wanting to tell you: i couldn’t say goodbye to you and that’s why i didnt answer the phone
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Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 8:30 AM UTC
musician
i could spot him in any crowd even though he blends into the walls i want his warm hands and the way his fingers lace around mine i want his soft lips and hard kiss and how he would take violence and passion and mix the most pleasurable serum i’ve ever tasted i want his eyelashes to play my heart again like his fingers play guitar                                                                                                                             beautiful he told me he wouldn’t forget how our lips locked                      i wont forget that either and that if we lived in the same universe we would be lovers like something rarely seen                      i wont forget that either did you know that when i see you my heart dilates so to take in as much of your light as it can and when i hear you i develop a fear of going deaf because if i don’t get your notes, i'll be alone                                                                                                                                                  ******                                                                                                         not high.    i’m not sure anyone can hold my interest the way he does i wish i never let him go every day there’s something i’ve been wanting to tell you: i couldn’t say goodbye to you and that’s why i didnt answer the phone
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23
clouds are knotted over— soft q-tip plunge into your mopped halo. time dilates itself into big rain, big thunder— a concentration of stringed lights hanging on a rusted picture wire I’ve written this before but we are nothing but bones underneath— mortal refuse cooling in the shade until our joints are locked and we toboggan down with tight jaws seeing the physical doesn’t mean you can see— the tendency to blindfold oneself snuggles inside judgment, moves inside the tracks like a swallowed pearl until you dig through and find the bruised dream I let the lightning roll off of the table, spill on the wood floor. I don’t mop it up; I no longer buy the delusion of messes made. I **** the electric lemon. feel my face go cold and numb. succumb to the dominant, coronal moonshine. here we are—heaps in the corners of a corner-less world. we hook things like fish. we perform fire drills. we love the act of escaping. here we are—piles of human, our knees in our hands. the next strike comes. ommmmmms into omen. in this cardboard kingdom, our houses sag when it rains and we crouch down to survive. but I will always remember the clouds, driving knots into your cells as the roof fell in. and we were both soaked. both sacks of pearled bones.
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Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 12:46 PM UTC
just lightning