–intimate dizian exploring love's silent language

Wild ferns, we spill across our living-room floor

Wet lips cling to one leaf, our night’s sweet dew

Wandering lights gaze bodies washed ashore

Welcomed streetlights eye stripe our play’s debut

Wishful neighbor-blind gaps-–glimpse—can’t undo

Willow wands, our spines bow beneath soft snow

Wisps—rose-petals, sip our scent’s c...

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Love is amusing
Love is kind.
Love is confusing.
Love is blind.
It's sometimes euphoric
With no words to explain.
It can be such drama.
It can cause such pain.
Love is so fragile
It can fly away.
You can hold on tight.
To try to make it stay.
You can live without it.
And be lonely and blue.
I'd rather be bewildered by it.
Than spend a day without you..

by Marla Deaton Novemb...

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I never learnt my mum's favourite colour.
Maybe it's the shade of maroon that adorned her bridal fingers,
Or the green that has weaseled its way into her dogmatic beliefs,
Or the blue that symbolizes her unrequited pursuit of peace.

I never asked my dad if he wishes he could go fifty years back in time,
Spend his childhood, basking in the privilege of being an only child,
But in a less bro...

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I still wear your jacket
It’s worn and torn
With missing buttons
Your remnant scent
Was lost some time ago

I want to keep your arms
Close around me
Anything to stay warm
In a dim November kitchen
Still haunted by your voice

Around this uneven table
Five chairs untucked
I've moved between them all
I reluctantly accept
The silence of our house

I'm caught in the folds
Of this in...

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I ended up opening our texts again
A pain, My heart can’t explain
Im trying to hold back my tears —
I might drown with them, I fear

But I just want to know —
why?
Why me?
If you liked her,
Why bother even speaking to me?
Why did you pretend feelings?
Why insult me?
And how could you leave so abruptly?

I hate you.
But I don’t.
I like you.
But I don’t.

It was something I believ...

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I met him by the roadside

Standing tall with shoulders wide

He smoked a fag I couldn’t abide

And asked me if I’d come inside

A dull linguistic polymer

A tiresome interlocutor

Who cares when promiscuity

Rears its head, it grins and tempts me

Unknown and hardly trusting

Inside the room we fornicate in

In and out, in and out

Breathing, fucking, no room for doubt

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