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Literature Text
In the orange-cast grey buzz kitchen
your light words clink together like glass beads--
the tension of the night is a taught string
through us from soft soil to the stars.
My throat trembles with the weight
of the words, that finally
spill out from my mouth like drops of rain:
"what",
and the words fall
"is the meaning of it all?
the thing that we're all moving towards?"
silence spins as answers are
measured, formed, examined, weighed--
I hardly dare breathe and break the dance.
Finally I chance a look
and that furtive glance reveals
your face wrapped loose
in sleep.
For that moment you are still
immobile as the kitchen clock--
its black hands are your breath.
Suddenly
you
shudder shake
your eyes shoot open
in a shock
I half expect you'll snap
stock straight and
scream free from a nightmare.
Instead you turn, your eyes scream-blue
the words brush sleepy, urgent past your lips:
"I dreamt that I was dreaming,
I mean I dreamt I was asleep.
I dreamt that I was dreaming
and I had to wake up,
wake up!
wake up!
I had to wake up.
and so,
I did."
your light words clink together like glass beads--
the tension of the night is a taught string
through us from soft soil to the stars.
My throat trembles with the weight
of the words, that finally
spill out from my mouth like drops of rain:
"what",
and the words fall
"is the meaning of it all?
the thing that we're all moving towards?"
silence spins as answers are
measured, formed, examined, weighed--
I hardly dare breathe and break the dance.
Finally I chance a look
and that furtive glance reveals
your face wrapped loose
in sleep.
For that moment you are still
immobile as the kitchen clock--
its black hands are your breath.
Suddenly
you
shudder shake
your eyes shoot open
in a shock
I half expect you'll snap
stock straight and
scream free from a nightmare.
Instead you turn, your eyes scream-blue
the words brush sleepy, urgent past your lips:
"I dreamt that I was dreaming,
I mean I dreamt I was asleep.
I dreamt that I was dreaming
and I had to wake up,
wake up!
wake up!
I had to wake up.
and so,
I did."
Literature
The Sky
The sky.
The sky, clouds underlit by setting sun. Reds and oranges dominating the lower, blue more prominent in the upper.
The sky. Something about the sky had always spoken to him.
He had never made any plans with his life, but when he did--when he even thought about life after high school--it always had something to do with the sky, and with flying.
Every day at sunset, he would climb onto the roof of the apartment building where he lived with his parents, and stand at the very edge, eyes closed and arms spread, letting the wind whip his clothes and hair around, maybe fogging up his breath and glasses if it were chilly enough.
He wou
Literature
eden
They are only
children,
their fingers kissing
by the palms;
Thirteen years,
that is how long they've
been breathing.
"You know," she
murmurs, leaning in.
"Your heart is cold."
He stiffens, breaks
from her touch.
"What?"
"I meant your hands-
your hands are cold."
"I know."
She smiles, then,
and the soft breeze
whispers through
the cherry-blossoms
of her hair.
"Know what?"
Slowly, hesitantly,
he traces the white-lily
curve of her fist with
his.
"I've made mistakes;
my heart has hardened
over time, but..."
"That's alright-"
"...It's yours."
There is a pleading
sort of poetry in
his words, his
night-stained eyes,
Literature
never gold
her piano key teeth bit the bullet
and shattered the melody
that was keeping her
on her toes
he watched from a distance with his oceanic eyes
counting her every breath with ignominy
his heart was always silver
never gold
she stared up at the ashen sky with anticipation
waiting for the rain to wash her away
and as she crawled to the sea
he couldn't help but
wonder
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Comments17
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by the way, I like! I almost seem fictionary in the poem xxx