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Posts Tagged ‘sharing’

The music here has created a movement,

and beauty is bleeding from within.

Everything is esoteric,

seeds budding and stemming from a glance, from the simplicity of a soft, gentle touch,

from my heart and to and through you.

All of this, of course,

has always been,

and always will be.

Harmony has passion,

and

fear flies with just as much grace as that of

a diving dove.

 

Now and again, illusions form–

blankets of snow are tricks from the midnight moonlight,

whispers beyond the hallway are shakes from a cold chill,

and painful thoughts are only fragments from feelings of the past.

We have buried ourselves,

all of us.

In so many shapes,

in so many ways,

in so many places.

Falling

apart.

 

But now, the air is aberrant

and these vessels;

these veins and vines,

these eyes and ears,

see and feel and hear

the heart of the matter–

the only matter that has ever mattered.

 

And so we travel on,

picking up the pieces,

trying to live our lives like circles.

Perfect in our own rotations.

All to touch again,

perhaps.

 

But,

tender to shine together

we all are,

as long as we breathe

life

beyond

our skin.

As long as we share

out

from

within.

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I wonder if you would save me a kiss

after the music is over and the party

is left in confetti and chaos;

I wonder if you could care that much.

If these locked lips could lose time;

if you would mind the others staring,

and

if you could care about nothing but

not letting go.

There are times when the night howls over everything

and I’m left here to sink in my thoughts

like my dried drunken pasta for the boil.

Does this scare you—

my honesty?

I think about how you must feel and

know you would never do the same.

And I know why I spend so much time

locked in isolation.

It’s because love always breaks my heart,

and sex always leaves me unsatisfied,

and people just drive me mad.

Perhaps,

I expect too much

or

it’s jus that

no one really gives enough.

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You want me to come and greet you like

the warm blossoming of spring.

You want me to sing and dance to the tune

you choose,

but I don’t dance for the beat anymore.

And I don’t sing for love.

You want me to answer with words

you hope to hear,

but my words are brutal and bare;

there’s no growth to find.

Just this lone tree standing still in the moonlight and hiding

beyond what you call hope.

There are no words for the broken heart to blaze another trail,

and there are no poems to repaint the pain.

You say you want to hear something beautiful but

you want me to be honest.

And if you listen really carefully to this soft stinging silence

that leaches all around us,

that breaks between us—

well, I need not say a thing

about want you want.

Your lies will fill in the gaps so gracefully

and what I would have said won’t matter at all.

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