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Literature Text
My lips were sewn together
With clear, plastic fishing line.
It took years ‘a practice-
Pricked fingers, broken needles,
Spools and spools of that taut thread-
But years 'a beatin's leave scars
An' all true efforts pay off eventually.
If you hadn’t ‘ve met me-
If you hadn’t noticed the feel and taste
‘a processed petroleum threads
And determined yourself to figure out
What I really tasted like-
I think I’d ’ve been fine to keep it there.
Literature
Over
To be over something
is to ride a speed bump
up to its crescent
and crush it
under tire
until the road is wrinkle-free.
To be over, some
tires have to lose
their grip
on past reality.
To be over someone
is to drive a car
through potholes
to find smooth road
ahead.
To be over, some
one has to say
those potholes
don't feel like quicksand
anymore.
Because it is over -
you are the speed bump
that can become
a level crossing.
You can watch
your train of thought
passing by, lay
a thumbprint upon the ground
and cry
Then step back,
let the vision vanish
into dust
Let the life tracks
left behind
form a new railway.
Then,
drive away.
Literature
Waiting
The summer of ‘67, funerals fanned out
like a poker hand in Mother’s family.
You could see she'd waited a lifetime
for this one, black dress in plastic,
handkerchief ironed and folded, ready.
She forced herself to touch the badge,
the service revolver, sweat-stained
brim on a hook in the hall.
She would conjure everything in time,
enough to rise above the casseroles,
the Jello salads melting in our kitchen,
hoarded tears poised above the glare
of Tupperware and Avon calling.
It was in the way she held her mouth,
her breath, waiting for something beautiful.
A childhood ago, summer nights,
her skin had prickled at the cru
Literature
diary of a psychologist: on hearts
2.
next time you're alone with your lover,
look deep into their eyes
they might ask you what you're doing
and scrunch their brows
they might crinkle their nose
and tip their head
impatiently.
Tell them to wait.
watch the ribbons in their irises,
the milky muddle of color near the peripheries,
watch the little broken bridges of fibers
that once let the light walk right up to the pupils
and shrink them with a mischievous touch.
then, take their hand after a time
and hold it close to your chest
like you would the rest of them.
there is a phenomenon yet to be explained which occurs
when two people in love stare into each others eyes.
Wh
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Sunday 26 July 2015 @ 11:30 PM
So this is for one of my closest IRL friends.
We had only known each other for 3 weeks when I told him, "I think I love you."
It's been 2 years, and I was right.
So this is for one of my closest IRL friends.
We had only known each other for 3 weeks when I told him, "I think I love you."
It's been 2 years, and I was right.
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Comments12
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oooooooooooo that's so good.