Posts
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Over the snow
Warm light after a winter wideness.
I keep walking down the street, plowing softly,
each lit window a church bell melody.
An unmade god lives under the new snow.
Our city was built on a chess board, -
To Desire the Godess
The methodology of beauty: -
The Metronome
I am terrified of what it means to be alive,
terrified of the queasy absurdity of living,
the spring-flower-hot-oil rhythm of life.
Trilling along a relentless number-line, -
Lampshades
Your persistent algebra tears me from myself.
After our kiss, my creaking timbers were finally composed.
I've been waiting for a secret knowing.
Under the covers, warm and full of light, it came to me: -
New day
We are made of flesh:
pink and unseen.
Hands pressed together in prayer, -
Pink and red
Your lips are pink. I can’t tell if it’s lipstick or love.
I am frowning, halted, playing hopscotch with my breath,
Loves
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The To-Do List of a Rising Senior
- email admissions counselor
- make common app account
- july 8 AP scores
- learn after effects
- saturday lead tiger class
- 10 assignment/wk gov; 6 assignment/wk econ
- pick up hospital badge and parking pa
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migration
i, like many poets, have wondered a million times what it would be like to be a bird: soaring high above the trees, unburdened by life's banal worries. something primal and free.
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cutting fruit
the sound of laughter through sun-spotted trees,
i dreamed last night we were fae frolicking
in rings of toadstools, in and out of trees.
fireworks went off in my head as
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on the off-road?
two weeks ago we were stuck in the plains
somewhere in the midwest with no service. you pulled out
some 1999 AAA member's map and said
"crack it open," and i still loved you, even then. words flowed
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Spring
One very nice afternoon I went on a walk through the swampy wet woods to see the very pretty and soothing river flow on my way there I met this very cute and nice rabbit she said her name was Synthia, Synthia had walked with me to the river to wat
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"What dwells in the between?"
I have walked over the bridge
And seen the river that flows,
I have walked through the blue flags
And seen only shadows of frost.
The towering no longer stoop