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Literature Text
sweet, darling sara, standing on the landing with hair laced into her fingers,
the war drawn into all the creases in her skin. she says of course we are not our soft earthly vessels, we are smaller, firmer, wetter
i ate a peach, she dared, we disturbed the universe together oh god the universe was in her motions if i could draw lines to capture her big blue hips i would. do i dare disturb again
sara in a dress, my own branch-tipped apparition, what a doll, what a doll.
knees like traintracks, whatever the hell that means, and we kissed on the
couch before our bodies clashed together like thunderstorms
i gave my best wishes to the mean reds saturday in june with the air fat and yellow
the war drawn into all the creases in her skin. she says of course we are not our soft earthly vessels, we are smaller, firmer, wetter
i ate a peach, she dared, we disturbed the universe together oh god the universe was in her motions if i could draw lines to capture her big blue hips i would. do i dare disturb again
sara in a dress, my own branch-tipped apparition, what a doll, what a doll.
knees like traintracks, whatever the hell that means, and we kissed on the
couch before our bodies clashed together like thunderstorms
i gave my best wishes to the mean reds saturday in june with the air fat and yellow
Literature
before
a little while ago
maybe a couple of months or something
i wasn't drinking ; instead i was
waking up to you
every morning you would stretch
and your spine would move and i felt it all over
your skin stretched into the sun and
i saw it everywhere
but guess what, that shit was gold and
gold doesn't last and you didn't last.
i got boring and you got mean.
and you're less of a gypsy and more of
a woman and i know if i called you up tonight
said hey baby come home
how did we get here baby i'm crying on the
floor drinking lime pepsi
and this goddamn pepsi is flat. so why don't
you come home. just for the night.
you would say you h
Literature
Tiger Eyes
Hidden between a ribcage
not fit for company, or
mid-winter loving,
I grasped your heart, tightly.
We were a mess of ugly
metaphors, and tongues
gone limp-from far to many
late night, gunpowder kisses.
The kind that left nostalgic
paper cut hearts that burned
and ached, lonesome for you
after months of itching.
Tired, but deadly, I once found
you resting at my feet, peering
up with hungry tiger eyes and
claws unsheathed.
[ I never wanted you more. ]
Literature
Sight Less
Beneath all the beds in New York you'll find the musicians' dungeon. People constructed of more soul than they can hold sell bits of themselves for quarters and dimes. These claim no home other than the section of ground they occupy. Few passerbys take notice, as is the way with common rushers. Handfuls of tourists with pity in their very bones offer mercy in the form of one dollar bills. It's not a job one can hope to live off of. It's just barely enough to keep one from dying.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Helena stepped out of the subway car, tapping her fingers on her skirt. Sh
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June Hymn- The Decemberists
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Comments4
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bewitching... your words are so rich and full and beautiful.