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poetry

Anno Domini

'twas a serendipitous gift that our restless paths might cross and I’d known from the first glimpse auburn tresses, tossed wishful and curious late-Spring’s wondrous sun hungered to caress our decades of loneliness and its warm amber fell over us through tall windows loving even this darkness we'd both known ...
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poetry

That already known

in these reckless exchanges the truth of it emerges from its shadow-keep that already known, but forgiven while still unspoken-- that I am loved-- but that I am not enough and who shall ever be enough? I am who I am, love I am what I have become carved by ...
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poetry

Midnight’s secluded palace

Gray-haired wizards gave electric music to despair's lonesome tone; we drank our ale from tall tin, and we listened-- as the band played, and we later kissed, tresses pulled, then let slip 'tween curled fingers' grasp, white teeth nibbling-- in a hunger, at last remembered, and within Midnight's secluded palace, ...
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poetry

tempests

Friendship is too small a word for this which we share, as has love proven too unsound a home for us, tho its russet bricks remain-- surviving even our tempests' furious bluster ...
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poetry

a daydream’s peril

simply spoken, I do not know if it'd be still owned within myself-- anymore displaced, from its home this, the echo-hollow having filled itself with more of itself-- overgrown its legions, its incarnations bloated and swollen and its claw-finger children whose eyes haven't glimmer and whose mouths, sealed, never sing ...
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poetry

the somber song

we’d need a thing taller than love-- to heal us, of our broken faith, lovers a thing-- taller than the stoic mountain it’d wish be regarded capped in sun-brushed, purple-heather sway tho at its peaks, a petulant child, it’d be bellowing its stone-tablet demands aye, its red-faced, screaming needs tho ...
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poetry

conversations #1

"All men want that.." "That is untrue. Some of us, or at least one of us, wishes only to know your nuance, those things missed, or disguised, and to learn the depth of one's shadow; each with dimension, 'tis where we reside." ...
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poetry

ecstasy of sorrows

this business of living, kills us all "He lived a good life," they said one, after another-- and the women wept, the men, solemn hands folded, heads tipped, slightly down watching seam-stocking legs and shining shoes growing up-- out of the sullen-umber ground the combed-hair children, epiphanous, this day ninety ...
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poetry

Who will stay?

Who will stay Until we are old, pale, and grayed, bodies fallen? Who will stay When we are broken, when we haven’t words Knowing our silence, taking our hand as we are stilled by fear? Who will stay Through our whispering insanity Finding forgiveness, though unfair, their crucifixion? Who will ...
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poetry

unborn soul

this thing, craved tho our wish’d be always uncertain having learned, since children of hope’s wanton dereliction our orbit-paths, paralleling as might Saturn’s chalk-dust lines within a prism’s bent-light paradigm falling together, meeting hastily and then dispersing into nothingness once witnessed collision's distortions these guileless verses, whispered into the heart ...
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