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breathe
i am tired, love, i say eternity, but here i would have loved a drop of that ocean, the bones ache from this deep, i long for lightness, but, love, you seem adamant that i stay under; it’s beautiful, but i can’t breathe, let me come up for air,
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trance
ah, the oil lamp, pressed from the fat of my body, flickers; it flickers between us, and the dance has been evoked; love, you set me in a trance, dreams, symbols and waking life have swirled together; all of me shivers under this spell,
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behind a candle
love, i can never look at you directly, my heart trembles at every twitch of your brows; it’s only behind the veil of my hair, when you are lost in thought, that i dare glance, and your sleeping face, my courage fails me, and so i remain in the night, moonlit, behind a candle forever…
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mirages
your feet are scorched, lips parched, chasing phantoms; love, you have returned; i can see your eyes, softly-lidded, on my lap; i say, what took you so long? The oasis was right here, he says, i have drunk from mirages and have gone mad; anoint me,
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the sea between
how unversed in the language of love; i could pour it into poetry as if a seasoned lover, but what an awkward child in the shores of Aphrodite; she must be shaking her head ruefully, and throwing trinkets at me to pick one, any, and give it; i can’t for the life of me, express…
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just this
i have circled back right to where i began, disillusioned, but somehow, soft; love, i have grown deeper, under, since the glamour wore off, i wear simplicity like a white cotton shift, nothing more; you will find no jewels, no mirror, just this,
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eden
a walled garden, where only in moonlight you break into my seal, and only then can i see you truly, draped in shadows and silver, melting, and every night you leave a pearl by my side; i can’t tell if it’s a promise of return or goodbye,
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whites are flying
i have raised my hands in surrender, the whites are flying, you have cornered me in every turn i have taken; there is no way out but to sheath these claws and teeth, and drop to my knees; i have become a supplicant under the shade of your hand; oh, the arrogance to have tried…
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unbroken
innocence unbroken springs from this freshly tilled earth; like the warm ground kissed by the first drops of rain; like her neck from a warm shower, scented; my hands tremble, delicate like the stem of a dandelion, once plucked–drains very quickly,
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eaten
mother, i would have slept in your meadows forever, never broken my eyelids for nothing but, there are mouths crawling all over me, blood seeping; and i must move, you demand that i move or be eaten—
