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Literature Text
Once upon a time, every fingerbredth of my skin was covered in the swirls and ridges of your ardent love.
I can't help that I crave the sensation of your greedy sepia fingers between my anxious ivory ones, just like the feeling of your chunky cobweb chatter between my eager ears. Those intricate gossamer vows descend as frosty flakes onto burnt cheeks, but lies are lies no matter who tells them. I am but a gullible ghost, a figment of your adoration. You should have pulled your acid tongue out before it pillaged my insides.
Mornings taste like caramel, but only when they're ripe. They manifest themselves as sunbeams to dent your sinewy skull. The army of adhesions that are in a state of perpetual war with your forehead make you more stubborn even than Napoleon, and more reckless even than me. In the season of reasonable doubt you cured my fear of the dark. The blackest place I've ever been is the back of your mind.
Behind your sugar-glazed eyes there's a map of paradise as you see it. Gazebo love and me, under your skin, more ways that we can count. It wasn't until I started sliding away that you sunk your talons in. Now you've bitten your nails to their beds, in the off chance there'd be even the pettiest hint of the flavor of me beneath them.
This rivulet called Consciousness is laden with treachery and foam and the surrounding air is thick with the stench of secret secrets. Remember, lies are lies, no matter who tells them.
I can't help that I crave the sensation of your greedy sepia fingers between my anxious ivory ones, just like the feeling of your chunky cobweb chatter between my eager ears. Those intricate gossamer vows descend as frosty flakes onto burnt cheeks, but lies are lies no matter who tells them. I am but a gullible ghost, a figment of your adoration. You should have pulled your acid tongue out before it pillaged my insides.
Mornings taste like caramel, but only when they're ripe. They manifest themselves as sunbeams to dent your sinewy skull. The army of adhesions that are in a state of perpetual war with your forehead make you more stubborn even than Napoleon, and more reckless even than me. In the season of reasonable doubt you cured my fear of the dark. The blackest place I've ever been is the back of your mind.
Behind your sugar-glazed eyes there's a map of paradise as you see it. Gazebo love and me, under your skin, more ways that we can count. It wasn't until I started sliding away that you sunk your talons in. Now you've bitten your nails to their beds, in the off chance there'd be even the pettiest hint of the flavor of me beneath them.
This rivulet called Consciousness is laden with treachery and foam and the surrounding air is thick with the stench of secret secrets. Remember, lies are lies, no matter who tells them.
Literature
After Tuesday
Elizabeth,
I will not live like this anymore.
Not anymore.
There's a small Universe to the West,
that sits idle in Autumn,
I will be there.
Hinged on all sides,
by suicide maples
that fall from the trees like droplets of blood,
and that old Raven
(the blackbird that taught us Canasta
on the lawns by Cedars Lodge,)
he hovers quietly above me there, in the azure sky
like a guardian,
and those two shining moons Elizabeth,
the ones we happened upon
through the windowpanes,
between our screams and shouts last Tuesday night,
in this Universe, those moons weep misty vanillas
across a falling horizon and I am free,
yes, I will
Literature
tuesday afternoons
and the wind chills my bones and every time i look at my watch i remember all the times when we sat on the grass laughing, watching the afternoon sun arcing across the sky like a shooting star.
Literature
reduction
I'll tell the truth:
I am a thief of the
worst persuasion.
if you want honesty,
I don't think that we will
last.
give it one or two
or three years
years tense with opposing forces
and unusual magic
and our reaction will be
complete. we will both
go back to our own kinds.
haven't they always defined love
in terms of chemistry?
(opposites attract,
but like dissolves like.)
and here is the confession:
here is why I am odious:
I know this and
I will not withdraw.
here is the electron bridgehere the
anode, cathode, the ill-fated
reactants.
I set this up like dominos;
I wield it lik
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I don't know who you thought you were fooling when you told me I was special.
I knew better.
For Do all of the paragraphs/ stanzas seem to fit together to form one piece? Does the length detract from the message? What emotions does this piece evoke?
Any other feedback, whether comments or constructive criticism, is greatly appreciated. (:
I knew better.
For Do all of the paragraphs/ stanzas seem to fit together to form one piece? Does the length detract from the message? What emotions does this piece evoke?
Any other feedback, whether comments or constructive criticism, is greatly appreciated. (:
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Oh the imagery. Lovely, lovely.