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Literature Text
There's a place between the hour hands,
say you'll take a stroll with me.
I'll dive in at nine o'clock,
you at a quarter to three.
I'll hold my breath as the minutes pull me
down into your arms.
Where in endless fields
the birds and bees will teach us of their charm.
--
We make love amongst the past,
set ablaze.
Fire tickling us as one.
Embers like harmless dragonfly wings - plucked and left to flutter.
And coal whispering our secrets to the ash.
--
We bind a lock of your hair and mine,
a knot of golden browns,
and throw it to the sky.
Blissful carelessness warms our skin,
as we watch it explode,
outshining the sun with a wilted sigh.
--
You pluck me a flower,
the shade of snowflakes illuminated by streetlamps.
It grew from misshapen diamond seeds,
beneath the see-through soil.
Petals peel back like praying hands, to reveal poetry,
and you tie it in my hair.
Another lily love song,
amongst the rambling roses.
--
We watch the sky rain smiles
that slip down flushed cheeks, painted scarlet by our quivering hearts,
and coat our teeth in laughter.
Our hands wrap flesh ribbons around the other,
as we try to out-scream the thunder,
screeches and shouts echoing in our sodden valley.
--
We make love until our passion extinguishes the sun,
leaving echoed imprints burnt onto our eyes,
locked, warm brown, on one another.
--
As you sleep, I climb to reach the sky.
With an armful of stars, painted to glitter enticingly,
I run to you on bounding feet,
ebony like waves splashing with my excitement.
Each one glitters,
reminding me of your limitless smile,
as I press them into your skin.
The hollow space above your collar bone,
the tender spot just under your ankle bone,
the soft skin beneath your belly button.
Each one sinks in,
as I whisper to each,
another sweet dream for you to keep.
--
I try to tell you
that there's more than seven parts to a rainbow.
So we squat behind a waterfall,
the tumbling aqua hair of an unnamed goddess,
and blow bubbles from our fingertips.
Trying to count the colors before they shatter,
frail membrane dissolving into the atmosphere,
shredded by the teeth of some unseen force.
--
I stumble,
skin peeling away,
and your eyes drip rubies as I bleed your tears.
You cut yourself to let me know I'm not alone.
You drip gold from your fingertips,
while my veins shed silver,
and we press our bodies close.
The shimmering wave together,
like a spider's web of stardust and raindrops.
Friendship bracelets,
molded from our molten metal blood,
because we are friends as much as we are lovers.
--
We gather rocks from the jagged beach,
teeth nibbling at our toes.
Pitching them into the violent sea,
and burying them beneath scratching blankets of sand,
promising that forever won't end until the last rock is found.
--
There's a place between the hour hands,
say you'll take a stroll with me.
I'll dive in at nine o'clock,
you at a quarter to three.
I'll hold my breath as the minutes pull me
greedily from your arms.
Where in sweat-soaked sheets,
dreams that heal, seem to cause more harm.
When I wake without you,
yet face ever so close.
It's forever that I want,
and with you, I want the most.
Literature
We Were Someday
Someday,
When we're done with school,
We'll live together
Someday,
We'll leave this place
And go where nobody knows us
Someday,
Even if I can't,
I'll put a ring on your finger
Someday, we won't have to apologize.
Someday,
When this is all over,
We'll be together always
Someday,
I'll come back to you,
And it'll be just us
Someday, this war will end.
Someday,
I promise,
Everything is going to be all right
We were always
Someday.
Literature
hands too close to the stove
dear boy,
expect me to crawl from the hole dirty-faced, and i'll wrap my arms around your legs. expect me to still be standing there when the smoke clears and the sirens die down. expect coyote cries and insomniac nights spent staring at the red digits on your alarm clock. expect me to avoid eye contact as i bite my lip and my hand shyly inches towards yours.
dear girl,
holding your hand would be like wrapping five rubber bands around all five fingers and just waiting for the moment the circulation finally gets cut off. i'd have to stomach the static. my feet are on the dashboard and my hands are in the sink-- i'm here for you, and i'm the
Literature
all together, now--
i.
Like hands outstretched, like jutted shoulder blades, like a dandelion swept away by the wind.
She is sure she, too, is gone.
ii.
You are beautiful, he whispers, as if it is supposed to be some sort of consolation that he is exhaling promises and empty compliments, things reminiscent of what left long ago.
iii.
The battered Converse by the door. She slips them on and leaves at sunrise, in the wake of his snoring that she is trying not to hear. She's not away for long, he's not even awake when she returns, and yet she gets the feeling this is the furthest she's ever been.
iv.
I'm not here right now, she says quietly against the
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This is so odd...different from what I usually do...and so messy, too...Hope you guys can sort of understand it...I have been having weird (but not necessarily unenjoyable) dreams lately. If there's any stanzas/scenarios you don't get (which I'm sure there will be), feel free to ask, some of them were quite interesting, and I can't seem to put them into words.
Anyways...like it...or don't...I'm not sure I do
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I love seeing that dream put to paper!! Thanks for sharing it, Shea. Ich liebe dich!!