Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jan 2022 Luisa C
fustypetals
but last night—
after two years,
you smiled to me,
waved your hands,
and we both laughed
to each other's stories

suddenly,
the light turns darker—

you took my hand,
slowly lifted it up
right above my head,
make movements
as if you wanted me to spin
as if we were dancing—

and we danced all night,
somewhere only in my dreams.
oh, if only I could control it so I could hold it longer and do the other things I wanna do with you.
 Oct 2021 Luisa C
Tabbitha Erceg
The rain fell through that open window
And it was nice to cry with company.

"I think something went terribly wrong"

I said to nothing.

"I'm so much sadder then I ever imagined."
I fold myself
Into beautiful shapes
And when I can't
Seem to unfurl
I tear myself apart

Sometimes it's just easier
To pick up a new piece of paper
White as freshly fallen snow
Something else to bend

©KNL
 Sep 2021 Luisa C
Chris Thomas

I made love to you in my mind,
Long before my hands traced your skin
I tore at every strand of fabric,
Long before I espied the shape of you
I unclasped your bra in daydreams,
Long before it was tossed aimlessly aside

And whatever, my love,
Happens to us now
Know that the burning desire within me
Still echoes
In every revolution of the minute hand
And in every mile of space between us

I know again I shall crave,
Reckless collisions from our bodies entwined
I know again I shall thirst,
To mingle my hands within strands of your hair
And I know again I shall covet,
To pull you back to the embrace in which you belong

And whatever, my love,
Happens beyond tomorrow
Know that the labor of my love for your touch
Still echoes
In every drop of rain that resounds upon the roof
And in every emergence of the sun's first light
 Feb 2021 Luisa C
Shibu Varkey
Your spirit has the smell of earth,
kissed by first rain,
effervescent with scent of promise,
Your spirit has the smell of the sea shore,
the breeze, sweet with the salty spray of power.
Your spirit has the smell of the mountain side, grassy meadow wild with fragrance of untame flowers
Your spirit has the smell of a monastery, mystic camphor serene thoughts of living.
Your spirit has the smell of the battle,
blood, gore, flesh and fight
Your spirit has the smell of a maiden
out from her scented bath,
sensual, drip dripping
Your spirit has the smell of forest,
wild sweaty, hot and humid.
Your spirit has the scent so honest,
of love pure tho rugged and rough
 Feb 2021 Luisa C
Chris Thomas
Timidly, I step from hue to hue
In darkly lit dreams, I trip over blue
November abates, but December shuns
Nimble feet dance across a midnight sun
In exile, I stray into a path of thorns
Tearing flesh from bone like a lover's scorn
Grief, like rain, soaks me from head to toe
Stars, without name, chased back to shadow
I blatantly defy the brittle words of a liar
Yet, timidly, I step across the ice and the fire
West we go, for our chances are fleeting
I miss the mess that I was, is history repeating?
A plea resounds through the battered night
Names unspoken, surely an oversight
Take my hand, follow me back to the abyss
Where brokenness is whole and ignorance is bliss
if the ocean would carry me
it'll collapse under the weight of my bones
made with cement and steel
and the burden each brick owns

witness the waves howler and scream
just like the heart caged in my chest
blood bubbling around the muscle
surging with every beat and protest

the bottom of the sea may be quiet
like my tongue folded neatly in my mouth
though feral beasts deep within
choke with pressure more than i can count

the ocean and i are seperate
both flowers from different gardens
one ephemeral, one wilting before your eyes
but both's head tilting up to the heavens

sorrowful eyes, swirling, storm awakening
chaos mingling betwixt water and blood
ravid souls in dire need of feeding
cursed and blessed by god

i wonder if i could carry the ocean
within just the corners of my palm
i and the ocean - we are one
a catastrophe after the calm
i love the ocean. it makes you feel a lot of things.
 Feb 2020 Luisa C
JAC
Seeing you
makes me
miss you
more.
A cyclical poem, one of my all-time favourites.
every evening i slaughter the sun.
every evening i cut her up on unforgiving mountain peaks
i dip her blood orange blistered flesh in saltwater;
i do this for the moon.
the sun gurgles as she drowns
gloam
Next page