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Literature Text
Eleven fifty-six
A madman tromps into our house
and shakes like a dog to free the snow from his hair.
With feigned stealth he mounts the stairs two and three at a time.
Down the hall at the open door he is greeted
with the sound of his maiden's relax-ed breaths.
Ah,
this daydream,
not of -day-
but of -dreams-
the sort that would conquer and ravish her harried mind.
White knuckled
and of similar countenance,
she flutes her practiced solo.
Innnn
Outttt
Innnn
Outttt
One
baritone sigh,
two overcast eyes,
and it's to the pillow with him.
He squirms, fidgets and jostles til the whole house complains aloud.
Then, in the sudden stillness,
he implodes
at learning what he already knew.
innnnouttttinnnnoutttt
She daren't shift or
snatch a scratch.
With a forearm over her eyes she imagines she's captive.
Pirates, probably.
Ohyes, indeed.
Pirates!
If she so much as moves or even sighs--
"Jenna." Her breath catches in the back of her throat like a fishing hook.
She swallows it.
"JENNA!"
...............................
Innnnnnnnnnnnnn
Outttttttttttttttttttt
He curls around her
like the first quarter moon
to its dark side
and worms through her hair til his nose finds scalp.
Her shallow exhale pulls her
farther
A madman tromps into our house
and shakes like a dog to free the snow from his hair.
With feigned stealth he mounts the stairs two and three at a time.
Down the hall at the open door he is greeted
with the sound of his maiden's relax-ed breaths.
Ah,
this daydream,
not of -day-
but of -dreams-
the sort that would conquer and ravish her harried mind.
White knuckled
and of similar countenance,
she flutes her practiced solo.
Innnn
Outttt
Innnn
Outttt
One
baritone sigh,
two overcast eyes,
and it's to the pillow with him.
He squirms, fidgets and jostles til the whole house complains aloud.
Then, in the sudden stillness,
he implodes
at learning what he already knew.
innnnouttttinnnnoutttt
She daren't shift or
snatch a scratch.
With a forearm over her eyes she imagines she's captive.
Pirates, probably.
Ohyes, indeed.
Pirates!
If she so much as moves or even sighs--
"Jenna." Her breath catches in the back of her throat like a fishing hook.
She swallows it.
"JENNA!"
...............................
Innnnnnnnnnnnnn
Outttttttttttttttttttt
He curls around her
like the first quarter moon
to its dark side
and worms through her hair til his nose finds scalp.
Her shallow exhale pulls her
farther
Literature
contrite.
she said
'i want to wake up
before i go to sleep,'
and she was wringing
those hands-
wringing those hands-
like you'd wring a turkey's neck.
so those grotesque
trees in the courtyard
are chasing her far away
where she can't reach
her heart;
those black branches
have build a bird's nest
around it, and the
brambles have started to grow.
she falls asleep
before her head hits
the pillow
and they bow their heads
and pray;
singing about doves
and gods and
teacups.
'i just want to wake up
before i go to sleep,'
she whispers,
her eyes like saucers
in her face-
and you should have held her then
you think,
but you didn't
Literature
these feelings should be finite
I'm terrified and I know there's nothing unique about this, but I'm standing here completely out of touch with the rest of the world, realizing for the first time that we all feel things a little bit differently, which is why this doesn't hurt for you at all. I figure the only logical reason for how you could do this as if it means nothing was if it really did mean nothing at all for you. It's easier to hate you this way. It's easier to forget you without the burn of your kiss against my skin. It's easier to stay mad if I don't have to remember the way that it felt. Most of all, I can forget this as if it's a memory in someone else's lifetime
Literature
Reddist
Before you, there were women
with full breasts,
breasts with perk tips and beneath them:
hips wide as my hand spread,
but never love.
Athenas before you,
my eyes only followed the apples;
and then, suddenly:
A wild brook unleashed
and I never knew I was a basin
meant to be filled.
A woman sewn
from the smile of Coyote,
from the same hands that bent time
and created life for a laugh-
Apples became
the sweetest fruit; be my reddist-
I will love you madder
than a hatter and brasher than a miner.
Wilder for a gypsy.
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I love the name "Jenna" the way they say it in Balto.
That's not how it is spoken in this piece.
That's not how it is spoken in this piece.
© 2011 - 2024 londonrey
Comments55
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fantastic. wow. both bold and explosive.