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Literature Text
I’m not a pretty woman.
But when I close my eyes,
I instantly become every beautiful
she that ever lived –
ancient queens,
somber priestesses
slave girls.
The years disappear,
time no longer creasing
my face around eyes
from which too many
memories shine.
So, please, for me,
close your eyes and
let me be beautiful
once more.
But when I close my eyes,
I instantly become every beautiful
she that ever lived –
ancient queens,
somber priestesses
slave girls.
The years disappear,
time no longer creasing
my face around eyes
from which too many
memories shine.
So, please, for me,
close your eyes and
let me be beautiful
once more.
Literature
confession flavored
we made love long-distance
and not-quite-leaving
an art form
my forlorn reflection
and her quiet
storm flickering
freezing
a frame
all unfocused
we've been
hushed and
soft spoken
bits wed to
pieces in piles
of broken
parts
(between
miles
and memory)
see
his story
makes
the most
of
history
while hers
prefers
to masquerade
as mystery
and no intention's
path
is what
it appears
to be
truth is
I'm no
angel
she just
scares
the
hell
out of me
Literature
plans
I want to move
to Miami
sip
Cuban coffee
scream love
at the rafters
make this
the beginning
of every new poem
I want to paint
a portrait
of a man
covered in rabbits
I will call it
'man covered in rabbits'
(it will revolutionize the art world)
I want to
want to
need to
breathe and
leave things be
when I believe
I need
the things
I want
before they're leaving
Literature
a letter
dearest dear,
there is a butterfly breathing its way out of you. there is a red & blinking button pressed to bear releasing. I am ever so sorry, but still collecting your colors. In the midst of apologies, still pressing your fragile frame to pages; special focus on forever. tomorrow, I will visit you inside your house. shortly thereafter, I will hide underneath your bed; making a nest of your blankets. the following morning, I will infiltrate breakfast disguised as a warm sip of tea.
that will become my favorite section, in retrospect. the part when you learned to call me "honey", honey. the part where I whispered and tickled your chin.
I
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"every girl is beautiful when someone looks at her like you look now at me"