It's been so long since I've touched you
So long since i've felt the scratch of the stubble surrounding your lips
The kind that I always complain about
But deep down i think you know how much I adore

It seems like it's been an eternity since I've felt the softness of your skin
The way it streches over your bones so delicately
My fingers repeatedly outlining the indents of your back
Fitting my hands into the deepest curves

My lips have never felt so lonely
Missing the tickle from even the slightest and most gentle brush of yours against them
Forgetting that talking is their main function
Wishing that instead their only job was to love

My legs hang loosely and awkwardly without having yours to intertwine with
And arms rest on each side of my body feeling desperate for companionship

Hands locked into oneanother
So accustomed to holding
Naturally curling inward
Craving the rough callus of your palms


I did not know
That a body could feel nostalgia
But a need for touch proves otherwise.

a devil and an angel are both opposites, right?
are you sure?
are you really sure?
they both have too many things
that make them alike

they both have alluring smiles
that make you want
to love somebody
to hate somebody
to befriend an acquaintance
to **** an enemy

they both have beautiful wings
that make you want
to fly away
to burn everything down
to hope for something
to be disappointed when it doesn't happen

but what if they are both one?
then they do all that
they
love
hate
befriend oneanother
**** oneanother
fly to their freedom
burn to their death
have hope
and disappoint each other

and yet
we survive
as humans, you know?

As I gazed into the dense inner-soul
of that broad birch tree I
so often sought,
I discovered nature's ever-changing influence:
orange, soft leaves had began to
stem from farther branches, yet turning still
to a softer yellow -
almost in attempt to compete in colour against
the richness of the sun.
I breathed in the sweet scent of autumn,
longing for the cooler nights and crisp mornings when
the workings of winter begin to
leave subtle clues.
A wispy wind streamed through the leaves
as if in a hurry to bring the message
to far away trees alike:
Autumn is here.
Strolling barefoot through the thick grass
my mind wandered past
the rainbow assortment of roses that lay
further ahead and seemed to settle, at last,
in the folds of a tall oak tree -
surrendered almost completely to
the fiery hues, it reflected
a glowing fireplace; the leaves danced and
branches crooned melodies to oneanother
amidst the heat of the flames.
And at last I yielded to it;
finding a tranquillity I needn't question
as I decided: autumn is the best season indeed.

(C) 20/4/15
Courtney L

wich theoretical phycisist can explain the phenomena of our intertwined souls?
perfectly interlaced and weaved together
our bonds are eternal and cannot shatter
this pathetic figuration remains fettered to yours
our lips are writhing twins, forever enslaved to oneanother
let us dream together and sleep until the divine putrefaction occurs
and we are free to roam the endless abstractions of space...
together

the undiscovered petals of the cryptic stemless magnolia
scattering in the effervescent breeze
just like our bodies assemble and deconstruct
at irregular intervals we perpetually yearn for breath
wich may instill in us the desire to dream a dream within a dream
as dusk shapes itself gently into dawn like weaving poetry
we heave and shudder beneath the unspeakable intricacies of the mocking skies
interlaced with ancient stars and sacred light
deep in the darkness they exchange secret ciphers with hermetic lips far-flung
unlike your own as we speak in hidden tongues
we may never unravel the singularity
behind their riven frequency
in perfect metric form
even shouldst we prevail upon the dark with our will to power
the endless listlesness of our immortal coils
will in time reveal to us the sublime putrefaction
and we will no longer hear the music of the stars
and every lavish note wich passed us by
will haunt and torment us til dark becomes darker still
though i am but a shadow my love strook pure and true
for i wept at your side throughout the anguish of your life
and i gently persuaded the moonlight to bathe you while you slept
its gentle beams flowed through the gaps in the autumn leaves
falling lifeless and withered from the earthly pillars of life
twixt your bedroom window
a thousand-and-one umbral nights may pass
but the imprint of your countenance engraved upon my heart
like ancient secret hieroglyphs dying to be cast like spells
loud and ardently into the twisting narrow dark
so that our eldritch love may manifest
in the ultraviolet of my heart
often do i think about that day when we first met
on that strange and alien shore
nothing but the silence and illusions faint
of battleships battered and broken
beyond the hazy light in your eyes
we walked along its pale and desolate banks
hand in hand like young wild things do
entranced by the shapes of the strangest seashells
our bare feet oblivious in regards
to the ephemeral depressions of the pathways we crossed
in the wet and cold crystallized sand
white, glittering and gleaming
in the fading misty morning
we may have made love that following night
but we are no longer here to remember anyway
if there exists another plane somewhere beyond
i hope to retrace our steps there once more
and fall in love again and again forevermore
our broken aetherial astral boats
that once crossed some otherworldly stream
may cross oneanother yet again in a dream