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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Kertain Diarydots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Cloacina
    ASL Info:    25/F/KY
    Elite Ratio:    5.24 - 20/53/54
    Words: 278
    Class/Type: Poetry/
    Total Views: 833
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2067



    Description:
       More crap from yours truly


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsKertain Diarydots
    -------------------------------------------


    A soul bears no measurable weight,
    But elegant movements,
    do not equate,
    with lightness.

    My soul is not graceful,
    Swirling through air like winged seeds,
    That pirouette so seamlessly,
    But rather it is clumsy,
    as stiff and restrained
    as my awkward mannequin flesh,
    that, weaved through collagen fibers,
    wears death's name.

    My soul lost its footing,
    Yanked backwards by abrasive silver rope,
    Found me stumbling into myself,
    With a sick snap stuttering through my denial,
    and a quicksand resistance,
    slow, but strong, yet overcome.
    There I found the black cord,
    and traced it back to paradise.

    Bitter pollen aftertaste
    lust lingered concealed in alcohol
    somewhere north of a Trojan horse,
    and south of Eden's evidence,
    My body marked those moments,
    his skin offering up hormonal sacrament.
    I laughed and blamed him for the trail.
    He teased, twas but a happy hair.

    When he moved past,
    the months trailed after,
    not wanting to be left behind.
    Fecundate whispers multiplied,
    marked the calendar in keratin.

    Eden, abandoned,
    was given to rebel weeds,
    sprouting in defiance,
    sharp exclamations against the barren landscape of skin and heart and air,
    like the paper cut garden that overtook the runes,
    where his phoenix rose from the ashes,
    and our love expired on the pyre,
    in the death rattle of falling brick and screeching metal.

    The buzzard blade still hesitates
    to insult the memory
    sung in nostalgic strings of DNA,
    surrendering pardon more times than not,
    but to salt such holy ground,
    would be unthinkable blasphemy.

    None but unforgivable hearts
    would raise heretical forethought
    to erase the testimony proclaiming,
    he was here and he has changed me.




    Submitted on 2008-05-16 19:09:15     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Well I'm very very fond of your work.

    I think this peice captures quite well the end of a relationship not the part where you parted but the actual end, when you realise its over you're done (done hurting and done wishing) and your different because of it.

    Idk, thats the vibe I got.

    Btw, I love your vocabulary.

    ~Carrie
    | Posted on 2008-06-16 00:00:00 | by dismal_s child | [ Reply to This ]


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    161465

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


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