maelynslavik

Top Gun soundtrack and

peanut butter m&m's and

writing poetry for my friends on

torn-out sheets of notebook paper, scrawling

the verses in pink ink that

reminds me of fairy wings and

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not.”

“I love you.”

“You don’t.”

“You live in the stars.”

“My feet are planted on the earth.”

“But your eyes are reflecting them.”

“They’re not.”

“Believe me.”

...but maybe that's the point?  I wrote at random inspiration and when I was tired, but I hope you find it entertaining

“The world,” said Claire, “is a very pointless place.”

Daydreaming of writing

About the stars

With beach grass blowing

Around my face and

The smell of the sea tickling

My nose, watching

We are not the daughters

Of mother earth, but

Her sisters;

Each morning we rise and

Watch the dawn

Of the new day sparkle

This is from a longer project of mine, but I really liked how this stanza turned out, and I think it kind of works on its own.

I flip through the first

Couple of pages,