Posts
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Tar and Feathers
I left my room to cry in the park.
I hoped the smell of wet grass
would trigger the primal part of me
that fabricates tears.
After a few sad songs,
a few sips of too hot tea, -
Empty Night
At midnight, after a few too many sleepless sighs, I wrapped a blanket over my pajamas and stepped out under the brown glow of a street lamp. I stood there, cold, for several minutes. -
On the grass
I want to kiss my best friend.
In the field, at sunset, lying apart,
We admitted our attraction.
Or, at least, a distant ninth grade infatuation.
But I want to kiss her. -
Michelangelo
I love your shape.
I am a Michelangelo who hasn’t read Plato.
I augment your curves,
Until your form is perfect.
But you are burning with life,
as temporary as anything.
I replicate -
The Art of Moral Law
We are pieces of God.
We make a collage of ourselves.
We worship the unifying.
But we cherish our dissent.
It is our sacred right
as gods.
Morality is a dialogue. -
In is up
In the empty space between leaves,
I distilled myself.
The perfect nondescript expanded.
I squeezed between the cracks
into the unblemished.
Filtered and full,
I was reduced to only my inside air,