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Literature Text
we are on the beach,
staying awake all night long.
i am touching your hair and
closing my eyes.
this is the moment
i want to live in forever.
the ocean is rushing towards
our ankles, and you are touching my waist.
it is all i can think about as you whisper
stories in the dark.
with you i feel
electric and infinite.
with you, i feel right.
staying awake all night long.
i am touching your hair and
closing my eyes.
this is the moment
i want to live in forever.
the ocean is rushing towards
our ankles, and you are touching my waist.
it is all i can think about as you whisper
stories in the dark.
with you i feel
electric and infinite.
with you, i feel right.
Literature
Sand and Salt
Sand and Salt
The ocean stole grains of sand from us
pulled unnoticed one granule at a time,
(wrapped as we were in whispers)
and replaced each with salt
filling the depressions left-
no longer footprints
but lakes and seas of
sloshy saltwater foam
our whorls at their depths
impressions containing us within them
eddies crashing over ridges
drawn by the gravity between us.
As the tempest subsides
cyclones spun from sighs
shut their eyes and
deposit quartzen silt
along the bed.
Literature
Blinded By Impluse
If I apologized for the rest of my life would that make a difference
I tend to write things on impluse, on what I feel at the moment
I don't seem to think things out, I just do them. I'm implusive.
I wrote thing about you a few years back, horribly angry things
About you, I obviously didn't feel that way, I was acting on implus
I suppose I could just blame my mistakes on my problem
But that would make me out to be more of a coward than I actually am
Everything I wrote out of anger was exaggerated more, for the purpose
Of writing, I over exaggerate because I write poetry, but I don't
Always feel what I write, some of it is all just
Literature
A Dry Wind Blew
A dry wind blew, hot and dusty, over the plain.
Forks of lightning flowered in the far-off storm clouds.
Near clouds were mere cut-outs on the face of the sky.
A dry wind blew, hot and dusty, bringing with it
Stinging sand-clouds. Shadows shifted over the plain.
Forks of lightning, dry and distant, came no closer,
But, with no sound, flowered in the far-off storm clouds.
Near clouds were mere flat things, pasted, you could not see
The wind move the cut-outs on the face of the sky.
On the face of the sky, far clouds pulsed and flickered.
Near clouds were mere cut-outs. They stayed stationary.
In the far-off storm clouds, forks of lightning f
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or the dream i want to have.
© 2008 - 2024 aeronautics
Comments12
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love it, especially the last little bit