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luci May 2019
i stared at the milky way
through the keyhole of your front door
my nose itched
at the linger of stardust on the floor

needless of a space suit
i stepped right through
waving goodbye to the earth
and entering this room
where exists no calendars nor timetables
where we’re made of constellations
no need for labels

realized the earth was a ghost town
at your existence's sight,
no city has a better skyline
than your body laying down

and while the clock on earth swallows up time
chasing the sun as it hides
i am floating with you now
in a heavenly ride
through our celestial silence

so eyes closed
blinded by your cosmic light
i read your skin like braille
most absorbing story anyone could write

i fell for your stars too far down
to be fearful of your night
so i confessed i was your satellite
i will follow wherever you guide

in a supernova you created me
didn't need to give me adjectives
and as your blue and my green collided
a new earth for us was provided

the end of the universe will come
the night your eyelids don't close beside me
the cosmos is curled up inside of us
it's the chaotic beauty of galaxies colliding
i wrote this for my english class once
  Jul 2018 luci
HC
I miss spelled you're name purposely.

You're always there when I need you urgently.

I don't think you realize the impact you have on me personally.

5,474.7 km away yet your still by my side.

Thank you for listening through all the times I have cried.

or even confessing to you when I have lied.
  Jun 2018 luci
Roanne Manio
Maybe the end of the universe
does not lie in an explosion
or a hole that breathes black,
maybe it is right here
where stone benches reside
and the raindrops taunt like pesky little children
waiting for you to see them,
loud enough to mimic the silence
loud enough to sound like sorrow.
Maybe this is the end of the universe—
cosmic loneliness.
The stars are in a bitter drink
and the sun lies anywhere but within you
and your moon—why do they say that? To the moon and back?—your moon is a rock in your stomach
and only the fingers of the almost rain
weighs you down on dear, old Earth,
washing you off your tears.
For that one lonely afternoon in R.H.
  Jun 2018 luci
Midnight
your words exactly:
"i believe our paths were meant
"to intersect,
"but not to sustain.
"to touch,
"but not to cling.
"to meet,
"but not to unite. "
and i still love you,
despite.
You kind of broke my heart when you told me this, so abrasively, over a warm beer and a shared cigarette at 4 in the morning.
luci Jun 2018
.                                         it rides everything
                                  ~=~.~=~.~=~.~=~~=~.~­=~.~=~
              it pulls me in the morning and doesn't let me get out of bed
                it keeps me from flying away when i don't want to be here
                      it makes me fall for pretty strangers and their promises
                              it lets my fingers drown on my thoughts as i write
                                          it lets senseless words drop from my mouth
                                                   it forces people to not dream too much
                                                           keep your head on your shoulders
                                                       ­                and your feet in the ground
                                                          ­                             it lets things break
                                                           ­                                       it lets things
                                                          ­                                                        die
yet
a­ll those days
that sink and lay
with time will make sense
because gravity rides everything
                              ~=~.~=~.~=~.~=~.~=~~=~.~­=~.~=~.~=~
                                everything falls right into place.
luci Jun 2018
june reminds me of

the calm before a storm
& the calm soft of your fingers
wisps of smoke out the window
shivers on my legs after the river
watching bokeh headlights
with dreamy eyes & a violet sky
cold sheets & loud fans at night
soaked shoes through the sprinklers
vaseline on my lips that i passed onto yours
the ivory scent of your laugh that still lingers

it reminds me of worldly things that now seem out of world
it reminds me of a past yet awaiting life
a blurry memory of who i am
it reminds me of you
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