Thank God for Ms. Nicholson and her Guardian poetry workshops. I've been browsing through those this week, and I've done a whole bunch of them. Hopefully I can pull off one a day.


cousinone summer you skipped the gap and slipped right into thirteen-- it fit you like an old pair of jeans. i hold in my mind the hot nights of july, you and i laying under my open window, counting grasshopper chirps and the freckles poised on the bridge of your nose. you explained everything 10-year-old me could ever need to know, like what it means to bleed between your hips and the feeling of lips on lips why should you ever want to marry. my arms grew to match yours, and icousin
wished each day that my body would follow suit. i did not want to be older, i just wante


benthic.You make me wish I were the earth and you you were the grass sprouting up out of mebenthic.
with your roots embedded in the
dirt underneath my fingernails.
You make me have to discipline the
butterflies in my stomach from
reaching too far up because
all I feel when I see you smile is a
tug at my navel and I want
to fall over--
You make me want to fall over on top of you
because when I want you it is with every inch of my body
and I can't ever decide where I want to
touch you first.
Our dry lips and our
sweaty palms
must h


blood moonyour fingers melted down into the crease of the couch where your blood collected in rivulets, crimson and easy. you appeared at my doorstep one in the morning crying about some man and his dirty towels. when i saw what he had done to you -- heavy splashes like rainfall on the ivory carpet --blood moon
i whisked you up and laid you out to dry, like a mischevous child. and children occupied your mind then: "has he struck me barren?" you wondered aloud as I removed his towels and wiped off your thighs with my bedsheets instead. you infuriated me wi
--
----
[...a secret was concealed.]
it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands!
it s t r e t c h e d for centuries to a diary entry's end;
where i wrote:
you make me happy when skies are grey.
--
"Tout ce qui existe dans l'univers est le fruit du hasard et de la nécessité." - Démocrite.
--
swaggaaaa
--
Je suis vivant si je suis libre.
--
Un jour, j'ai vu le soleil se coucher quarante-quatre fois! ... Tu sais...quand on est tellement triste on aime les couchers de soleil...
Le jour des quarante-quatre fois tu étais donc tellement triste?
Mais le petit prince ne ré
--
*RetroRocket-club *indiephotographyclub *VintageRepublik
Previous Page1234Next Page