fucking (Remove filter)
soft; Amelia Earhardt 0837 (11/12/2023)
lain in, thinking about
the soft roll of hair and
gentle exhales and
soft, pressing folds
filled with tiny collapsing sounds
sighs, held on high
near imperceptible if not uttered
direct
and deep down
and deep down
and deep down
like the brush
of my bones
where all the gaps between could disappear
where we don't need to know where one begins
or the other ends
Tuesday 14th November 2023 4:56 pm
howl steppin (09/11/2016)
'you never write me back in the cold and sober howling winds of daylight, where you're in danger of being seen. you never write me when your form cannot bleed into the formless, rooting in, burrowed deep into the ground, wrapping ahold of me tight, feeling rather than seeing -- much unlike this stark and starchy daylight living. You only write when we re both tasting death by the precarious and cu...
Sunday 11th September 2016 4:58 pm
Recent Comments
Stephen Atkinson on My Poetic Soul
2 hours ago
Telboy on Complete Stranger
8 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Jealousy
9 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Just in Time
9 hours ago
Martin Peacock on SONNET: REALIST, OR CYNIC (DEVIL'S ADVOCATE)
9 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Time is a flat circle
9 hours ago
Hélène on Omens and Homage (Ignorance, Manipulation, Control, Domination)
10 hours ago
Sarah-Kaye on Two Sexy Women
11 hours ago
David RL Moore on Apparently...
11 hours ago
David RL Moore on Omens and Homage (Ignorance, Manipulation, Control, Domination)
11 hours ago