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Apples
Sweet Scorpio, whispering and wandering, the shadow of your shoulders swallows me whole, and I am at the mercy of a pretty party girl. My dearest love. My dearest sickness. While the moon moves, divine and decided, we watch our wicked dreams, weaved by witchcraft. This is inevitable. I have walked this path, met and…
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Escalator
I was due another conference with my conscience, but I was swarmed, swimming in the summer’s bees and the last of my spring dreams, living in August, while April fought for my attention. My conscience, and the priest I paid to guard it had grown impatient, sighing as I locked myself away in my castle,…
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Changing Mediums
We are not yet divorced, but we sleep in separate beds. Drifting off to muted, melancholy dreams, where we meet, exchanging steely stares and placid pleasantries. Sullen ships in the night, our cheeks still aching with the memory of a smile, as I admire the etched anniversaries on your body, racing against the rain as…
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So Close
Our oceans have become puddles, stomped through by your sensible shoes, leapt over, like a lovesick ballerina, who longs to land in God’s good graces, but has been bound to hell by her wicked, wayward heart. The room that watches us is small. The eyes are ever watching, without judgement, without guidance, so I am…
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Through The Keyhole
All that I have are glimpses. Ghostly shivers, poison as I pass by her door. Nevermore. The sky is silent, watching me pace and pay attention to each ember of the fire that threatens to burst free, tingling at the fingertips that breathe only for her, twitching, yearning, screaming, burning, drumming on the door that…