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Literature Text
circuit of your emanation
rekindling in my mind.
i have reviewed your adornment
in endlessly tormenting
cycles i kiss
with both dry bleeding lips.
redraw your failing pixels
in brighter dawns, sirenic hopes,
and muffled alarms.
you're quite the beauty, juliet,
with your milk-and-honey hips
preserved perfect, traced
more than my own fears.
just then the airlock's yawning wide,
pulling darlings from their hiding.
we are lost again,
the tablet's split,
your vision's blurring mine.
all infinity inscribed
is thrown to wreckage.
how the hell am i
supposed to fly
this craft when you have let my neck?
rekindling in my mind.
i have reviewed your adornment
in endlessly tormenting
cycles i kiss
with both dry bleeding lips.
redraw your failing pixels
in brighter dawns, sirenic hopes,
and muffled alarms.
you're quite the beauty, juliet,
with your milk-and-honey hips
preserved perfect, traced
more than my own fears.
just then the airlock's yawning wide,
pulling darlings from their hiding.
we are lost again,
the tablet's split,
your vision's blurring mine.
all infinity inscribed
is thrown to wreckage.
how the hell am i
supposed to fly
this craft when you have let my neck?
Literature
Shooting Stars
I'm wishing on a star so bright
It's burning my eyes
Might be the moonshine
Might be losing my mind
I was never one for superstition
But tonight I'm wishin'
Wishing my life was as bright
As all that sparkling starlight
Wish my future held some hope
And my mistakes made me stronger
But that thinking's just to cope
With knowing you're burnt out
And it's not some glorious supernova
No, it's more like a hangover
And I know I shouldn't drink as much as I do
But it's to keep me from missing you
I remember when we'd lay out
Under the stars and wish together
It feels now so long ago
And I am wondering whether
Those stars weren't fighter planes s
Literature
for my sunday
raison d'être. i like to think i was yours.
i like to think we knew each other in all of our past lives
and that we were always this way, always
ghosting
over each other, you leave gifts for me to find
as i come tripping
down
this road after you
and i reassure you in dropped forehead kisses and
affection, absentminded like
fingers in hair
i like to think we wouldn't have needed this olive branch
or the way we love that we call "poetry"
to have found each other in this world of ours, you are
worlds away
and only
words away
and i hope you know
i will
Literature
.
all the words
taste like salt
on my lips,
although all the oceans
evaporated and stopped
throwing up corpses
long ago;
now all our souls
lie bloated in the
burning sand -
the sun beating
down on our heads
like a war drummer
that got lost
along with the
cause.
(there's a feast for the crows,
but I don't think they're hungry.)
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