Tide

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Credit: Pat Forbes

Call me your full moon.
Pull me close. I am your gravity.

Let’s crash along the shoreline
dip and dance to the rhythmic tides,
sparkle in the moonlight,
reflect in puddle-filled faded footprints,
and tangle amongst the seaweed.

We’re the water
the salt
the reflection

the tide.

Blue-Grey Iris

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Credit: Isaiah Stephens

If she only knew how beautiful she looks;
how her grey-blue eyes turn different shades
of blue as tears drip down her face.

As much as I want to help,
I can’t comfort her;
I’m selfish. I can’t stand to see
her eyes turn back into a normal shade of gray.

I need her to cry, so I can
write words about her from a distance;
personify her beauty at her darkest moment.

I love to watch her eyes
speak of emotion through color.
Damn, I love her when she cries.

 

Body Paint

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Credit: Matthew Scherfenberg

I dip my finger into a coat of light blue,
color you like an April spring sky;
kiss your cheeks softly, turn them into
a faint shade of pink, the same
shaded color on your lips.

Following the curves of your body
down to the floor, I slowly stroke
a color of red-orange

before we finish, I sit back and stare
at my  artwork. I wash my canvas off in water,
watch the running colors puddle beneath you
as I admire your untouched immaculate beauty

She Goes

girlwhitedress
Credit: Monika Luniak

She dresses in see-through.
She’s opaque and clarity, fiction and reality;
she’s perfection.

She would never look my way.
She knows my flaws; I know she knows.
I can’t compliment her the way she deserves it.
I best express my spoken words
in creative, nonsensical poetry.

Before she walks away,
maybe I’ll keep my
ten seconds of doubt

I’ll approach her,
tell her she’s beautiful,
grab her by the hand,
put my finger on her lips
before she can respond.

All before she goes,
I go, and my illusory mind
wanders off, again.

Salivate

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Build up an appetite
and crave for me, my words.

Salivate at the mouth,
let your taste buds lust for them.
Slowly pick apart
each metaphor, emotion, piece of
punctuation, and chose your favorite;
put my words on your plate.

Tilt back your head, mix in saliva,
keep them moist, give them flavor,
and swallow them.

Let my letters mix flow down your esophagus,
some won’t go down smooth, edges are sharp.
Once they reach the stomach, bask in their flavor;
appreciate my words from the inside and out.

Crave, want,
swallow
my words.

White Lace

 

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Credit: Monika Luniak

Draped in white lace, she sits
encircled in smoke. Ash put beside
her, burn marks on her shoulder; she
enjoys the pain, buzz.

Her dress lays lightly over her shoulder
shielding, exposing her. Surrounded
by grey-black smoke, wrist on her knee,
a dangling hand; her mind drifts away

inhaling, exhaling
inhaling, exhaling
inhaling, exhaling

the world encircled around her

Soliloquy

 

 

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Credit: Jason Hochman

Written here, on this page,
I speak in a soliloquy.

Share my words,
keep them under covers, or shout them aloud.
Promise me, you’ll hold these words near,
in the darkest of nights.

Sleep with them,
love them,
personify them;
speak back in whispers,
ignore them altogether
or curse them in response.

Read or tossed aside, my spoken thoughts
are shared, exposed to the world,
never kept in (my) mind.