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Lora Lee Apr 2018
Let my fingers
caress the wounds
of your chakras
in multicolored beams
                            of light
stroking the vibrations
Let me soothe and
lift them
to their peak
strengthen the strings
of violin tenacity
Let my third eye open
and meet yours
for a dance along
the astral plane
our gaze forever locking

For as it is now
we are restrained in our
rectangles of glass
boxes of electric ecstasy
beyond beautiful,
yet
what I would give
to lay one palm upon
your heaving chest
in fiery tender
To brush my lips
upon the tip of
your eyelashed ocean
yes
meet me
lash me to you
let me tremble
into the
humming of
our lips
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4dVkoOMjLo
Brian O'blivion Oct 2013
i long 4 the lonely distance bared
ladies with cut lips and stitches laced
beewings and seafeathers paired
salt water ******* and eyelashed face

the distance girls are borrowed and enslaved
the country girls let it go on weekends
they're always well behaved                        

   (projections of avy
patti smith and honey
over black tea))

                      with excess love
and a goodbye kiss
                the wall of
dawn walks you home
holds your hand
and threads
the nightly fissure
on a soft slow abyss
Kasandra Cook Jun 2013
I will probably stand you up on end,
the way hair rises for
electricity
uprighted, sure,
though not exactly how it’s supposed to be
I’ll play the current
and you won’t be what you were,
or at least always have been

And whether that changing
and charging between us
is right or wrong
is up for interpretation.

And speaking of interpretations,
you could wind up trying to read my signs
even though they won’t be signs,
unless I make them signs...
like warning signs,
or danger signs,
or maybe the kind of signs on old road posts,
weathered and worn,
and illegible

or maybe the kind of picket signs
that tells you all the ways
from which you can leisurely choose
on some sun dusted road
with your options spread at your eyes
and your feet
and hopefully, your heart
and you could choose whichever direction
that you think you know you want

And my words will most likely make you strain to hear,
though it may be a song you don’t understand,
like those of birds flying together distantly,
whom no matter how you concentrate,
are still a different species,
singing a foreign tongue,
who make you feel
and make you know
with a sadness or determination or both,
that until a melody is made solely for you,
you will always just be dropping eaves

And speaking of dropping,
I could cause a loosened grasp on things
the things you can touch,
and the things you can’t
and the things I can’t
will all be forgotten,
dwarfed,
at least, seconded
by my growing presence in your mind
you might imagine me as an Alice
oh my poor, shrinking wonderland
you didn’t stand a chance.


And it’s possible those things,
you know,
the ones that you let drop,
will clatter to the ground,
from your forgetful, or, unconcerned fingers,
and when they are grounded,
discarded,
leveled,
lowered to my toes,
that I may see a higher view

But, perhaps, just maybe
you’ll find that,
though they fell,
though you let them fall,
that I didn’t let them b r e a k

perhaps you’ll see I will have made for them a haven,
cushioning, cradling and made up of only the softest matter,
six thousand thread count kind of stuff,
likefeather down,
eyelashed cheeks,
inner cloud,
your words,
and my kisses


And when you finally come down from my initial high,
it’s probable that you’ll be so dazed
and dizzied
that you must look at your feet
to make sure that you are still standing
and that is when you will see
that in the moments when you forgot
the importance of your things, that I
did not
And I could not let them
clatter, shatter, smash
and that though they dropped,
because of me,
they are still intact
because of me

and when you see your things,
ones you loved but forgot you loved,
that they are all
unbroken,
is when you will know you can love me
wholly
Aaron LaLux Oct 2017
“Please be careful with my left ******.”,

her request comes with a clutching of my hair,
and a gentle yet firm pulling of my head,
away from her right breast,
and into the nape of her neck,

“Why?”,

I ask,
innocent enough,
as I settle into,
my repositioned position.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I do,
that’s why I asked.”

“Well, I had a surgery last year,
I had a tumor in my breast,
and had to have a surgery,
it was actually quite risky and I’m lucky to be alive.”

“Oh.”

I reply.

When anyone says anything so intense and so real,
there is only one of two ways to truly respond,
either with an equal amount of intensity,
or with a mellow affirmation of unconditional acceptance,

I accept when,
she offers her Truth,
and I see that she is an old soul,
even though her body’s still in it’s youth,

you,
can judge if you want to,
I’m in my 30’s and she’s 22,
but honestly with Love there are no rules,

when love abruptly finds you,
at the intersection of two soul’s life’s paths,
particularly when the two souls are travelers,
specifically when those two travelers are traveling,
you have two options,
1.) ignore every instinct to embrace each other or,
2.) plunge head first in the type of leap of faith that only love knows,

I choose the latter,
later,
we find ourselves again,
flowing in a whirlpool of pheromones,

where I find myself,
with my hand upon her mouth,
holding her breath,
to the point of panic,

see I’d always found pleasure in pain,
I suppose it’s a form of perverse dominance,
but the truth is anytime anyone feels uncomfortable,
whatever you’re doing is the opposite of what romance is,

anyways,

just as she teeters on the brink of asphyxiation,
she tears my hand away,
not nearly as gently as she’d pulled my head away,
just a few hours earlier in the evening,

soon,
tears swell and break her eyelashed levees,
bathing her cheeks and my shoulders,
in the salty brine of past torments,

the storm went,
on for hours,
her sentiments the storm clouds,
my shoulder the conscious ground on which she showered,

or rather the conscience ground on which she showered,

finally,
I asked her,
why what I had done,
had caused such an effect,
I mean,
I know,
what I did was wrong,
but honestly this many tears I did not expect,

“Please,
tell me,
why so many tears,
is it what happened now or what happened in past years?”

She pauses,
takes a breath,
then continues,
where she’d earlier left,

“When I was ten,
I almost drowned,
my brother threw me in a pool,
I hit my head and became momentarily paralyzed.”,

her pair of eyes,
staring directly into mine,
I saw in that instant,
that as strong as she was/is/will be,
she is still just such a little girl,
so fragile and breakable,
as intelligent as she was/is/will be,
she is still learning and growing and,

I see how wrongly I’ve treated her,
I see how much she’s been through in the past,
and I want to apologize for everything,
I want to take every misguided action back,

she gave me her trust completely,
and I all did was stab her in the back,

and I want to take back every misguided action but I can’t,
because the past has passed,
so instead of trying to go back,
or give her misused excuses I answer the only way I can,

“I’m so sorry.”,

“I apologize,
on behalf of all men,
and I'm not asking for our memories to be forgot,
I'm just asking for our memories to be forgiven,

because memories are tricky things,
and we both have our own versions,
but either way one thing I can say definitely,
is consent isn’t meant to mean yes when it’s said through coercion,

so again I must say I apologize,
on behalf of all men I offer this apology,
I can’t even pretend my actions were justified,
please forgive us for we know not what we did and we’re sorry,

we messed up completely,
I accept that completely,
we deserve to be ridiculed and shamed,
we don't deserve you we lost you when we lost our dignity,

we fck up totally,
we didn’t know what else to do,
but what’s someone to do when they’re as lost as you,
and no this isn’t meant as an excuse it's just the truth,

because we both know that excuses,
just lead to more abuses,
so this not an exercise in excuses this is an honest apology,
this is exactly what the truth is,

and I don’t know what else to say,
other than I’ll never ever repeat those mistakes,
please the only thing worse than getting my heart broken,
is seeing I’m the cause of someone else’s heartbreak,

see we’ve all been through,
too much trauma it’s true,
see we’ve all been ignored and abused,
definitely you and yes even me too,”....

Me.
Too.

See when anyone says anything so intense and so real,
there is only one of two ways to truly respond,
either with an equal amount of intensity,
or with a mellow affirmation of unconditional acceptance,

and,

I.
Am.
So.
Sorry.

I’ve been entirely too rough with her,
subconsciously inflicting her,
with not so subtle hints of,
all the miseries I’ve been through,

she does not deserve this,
I do not deserve this we do not deserve this,
she/I/we deserve to be in love’s service,
not servants to a fake love that’s perverted and hurts us,

she deserves just,
to be treated of course
equally unconditionally,
with delicate care and support,

I deserve,
to be treated of course
equally unconditionally,
with delicate care and support,

I need to be a strong man,
not a scared little boy,
a real man treats females as strong women,
not as weak little toys,

I need to treat her exactly like I strong man should,
and return to feel her gratitude,
see true strength comes from a place of love,
hate is weak love is tough,

and we are tough enough to change our course,

and I apologize because everyone makes mistakes,
but not everyone admits them,
and that is the difference,
between a real man and a fake one,

there's not a single person out there,
that has not messed up,
so if you think someone's perfect,
they aren't they just haven't confessed yet.

You are too real with me,
for me to be fake with you,
and yeah we are all broken,
but help me fix me and I'll help you fix you.

We deserve to be presently in love,
without having to drag any of our past pains into this,
and when I think of how much I hurt you,
it makes me want to take a knife and slash my wrist,
makes my heart plummet and my stomach feels tight,
makes me want to throw myself up out of me I feel so sick,
makes me want to punch myself in the head,
makes me want to swim away never come back and cut off my d!ck,

makes me want to forget,
makes me want to drown out the memories with alcohol,
makes me want to take recreational drugs to try and forget,
because I don’t want to remember or recall,

I just want to cleanse myself of myself,
just fckn want to **** myself I'm so riddled with guilt,
but if I’ve seen my mistakes and am ready to correct them,
then what good is going to come from killing myself?

Because the ones that feel the least guilty,
are usually the ones that’ve caused the greatest crimes,
so instead of choosing death which would solve nothing,
I decide to correct my wrongs and choose life,

I decide to listen more,
to treat all women as Universal Sisters,
which brings me to the next chapter of this story,
where after she admits to me I admit to her,

see she admits,
of her flirt with death,
when she was ten,
and then it’s my turn to admit this,

“My little sister drowned,
when I was 12,
due to my abusive stepfather’s negligence,
she drowned five days before her first birthday.

The wings tattooed on my back,
are in honor of her,
for she is my Guardian Angel,
she keeps Death at my doorstep but does not let Him in,
even though He incessantly knocks,
and one day He’ll get his way,
I never want to hurt you again Love,
and in honor of my little sister that passed away,
and all of the women and girls including you,
I’m changing my ways,
and there’s no better time than now,
so I’m starting right now right here today.”.

Now it is her turn to respond,
still teary-eyed she turns to me and says,
“I’m so sorry,
and thank you.”

“It’s okay my stepdad was a horrible man,
and my little sister is probably better off on the other side,
I’m sure I’ll be seeing her soon anyways,
plus I saw a rainbow above when she died,
and I took the rainbow above when she passed,
as a good omen and a good sign.”,

the tears finally recede,
and the smiles come like rainbows after a hard rain,
see the truth is all this we live is poetry,
see sometimes to feel joy we need to first feel pain,

relating to someone else’s pain is all we really need,
to not feel so bad though it is somewhat sad,
that human experience experiences so much sadness,
and must have such a painfully poetic path.

It is a miracle,
that after all her and I have been through,
after the damage that’s been done to us,
including both of us being sexually abused,
that we are even able to trust at all,
and not just to trust but to love at all,
to let down our walls,
and to feel anything at all,

honestly,
so many have just turned off,
and the fact that we are still on,
and we are in love is a testimony,
to the overcoming power of love,
to the healing power of love,
and to the graces of unconditional acceptance,

I accept her,
and all of her scars,
unconditionally,
and we will work together to build a better tomorrow,

and she accepts me,
and all of my scars,
unconditionally,
and we will work together to build a better tomorrow.

There's a world of hurt out there,
and we all have something to say just need a platform,
so find someone out there that needs some help,
and show them some unconditional support.

The world is not perfect,
and neither are we,
but the world is beautiful,
and so too are we,

so we ride into the future’s unknown,
grateful for the lessons that help us grow,
and we appreciate our moments here together,
because we both know all too well that everybody goes,

so,

find someone to love,
and please be gentle,
and remember to be kind and touch with care,
whether it's the heart the soul or the ******,

let's be kind,
and also be strong,
and let's embrace these moments,
before we're both forever gone...

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author/poet/human
In Solidarity
kt mccurdy Feb 2015
another morning
when you search
later when things fall
they always will
stretch out to
each day, a phenomenon  of
order and disorder but no,
what’s between?
bodies, fall the same way
each time
eyelashes too on the same place,
same spot on the face
feeding into it when that’s what
it wants what it wants is
for eyelashes to
keeping fall and wishes run thinning
since wishes unwork and unwind
and the same lashes
the same wishes
but chaos theory
avoids time
structure, we preside in
P.M.and A.M.
wall to wall
skin and soot on bottom’s heels and ears
and bodies, all the same,
aren’t they?
structure is
unavoidable
chaos theory is without
option
struvture without option
without sound but loud in consequence
its the same
for those like us
burying eyelashed face in
numbers and now-- words
always buried beneath something,
layers of clothing
or layers of pillows
across the belly
until straight enough to sit without
rolls
but rolls of breads, succulent and sweet
and rolls like child’s somersaults
and roles that you play for everyone
and yourself
when layers collapsed within
the walls of intestines
which erode
and the role is you
standing without
rolls and without much else, either
and skin cannot renew
skin cannot replace
you can try for ceramic skin
but thin is breakable,
cracking the hull
of the *****’s boat, the same
***** bandaging what you want to wound  
its structure for bodies
you and you and
the best friend you ever had
with freckles you cannot count
and a gummy smile,
structured the same and
what language do you speak in?
because
              wrapping            
your tongue       around
organs isn’t the same
speech
but the spaces between teeth is not enough
to contain what’s oozing in
the edge of a back,
the corner of a ankle’s ***
whatever it is,
is structured

— The End —