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Literature Text
We locked love into a music box
and fed its sour tune
with smiles and bits of lightning bugs
from the nighttime streets of June.
(And do you remember
the dark days of December
when the city lights we cherished
all went black?
And we'll tumble so slowly,
we're so tired and so lonely,
but we still won't have time
to look back.
So then we lit the embers
with the dead ends of November,
and the outcry of the sparks
gave us hope.
But if you take a walk
through the moonlit gallows block,
you'll find that there is no room
for loose rope.)
We stuffed pain into a silver box
in the bitter twists of May,
but there's no space for summer storms in spring
so we'll find a different way.
and fed its sour tune
with smiles and bits of lightning bugs
from the nighttime streets of June.
(And do you remember
the dark days of December
when the city lights we cherished
all went black?
And we'll tumble so slowly,
we're so tired and so lonely,
but we still won't have time
to look back.
So then we lit the embers
with the dead ends of November,
and the outcry of the sparks
gave us hope.
But if you take a walk
through the moonlit gallows block,
you'll find that there is no room
for loose rope.)
We stuffed pain into a silver box
in the bitter twists of May,
but there's no space for summer storms in spring
so we'll find a different way.
Literature
Hubris.
today
we're younger
than we're ever gonna
be.
i. and we finally did it,
drove to the mountains
watched meteors
and let the mattress
grow damp
under our love
under the stars
ii. there are things to
be reconciled
iii. my eyes sting like
chlorine, but from
crying,
I finally disappointed
them;
the highest order of shame
iv. but you cannot put
people into pockets;
good, bad
don't mix
with them
v. and I cannot choose
who I love
vi. your lenses are straight,
elite and proud
mine, open and accumulating
filth
vii. maybe
I should run away more often,
we never talk like this
viii. and you have to realise
that I live in
Literature
Do you know the taste of the universe?
One day, when you’re five years old and made out of fractured sunlight and mirror shards, you sit down on the bench of the MAX train. You’re dressed in your winter coat and boots that are too big and one of your parents has pulled your hat too close over your ears.
You’re sitting next to your mother, and on the other side is a man that smells like loneliness, something that you’ll later know as cigarettes and alcohol and homelessness. He’s crying quietly into the top of his jacket and you’re scared to look because you’ve never seen an adult cry.
The train ride goes on for five minutes, which is a lo
Literature
What Soft Dreams
What soft dreams we lay -
What soft dreams, like infants put to rest -
Frightfully bare, and compromised,
Our kisses on their breasts.
We close our eyes and trust them safe,
Kept 'til break of dawn -
Forgetting that the night is fickle,
And dutifully, as long -
It safeguards some,
Covets others,
Moved by neither coin nor threat
Nor anguished mother's cry.
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Comments12
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I LOVE the rhyme scheme and rhythm in this.
Such a cute story with beautiful imagery.
Such a cute story with beautiful imagery.