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Author: expiring_touch
ASL Info:    30/f/Hamburg
Elite Ratio:    3.91 - 139 /260 /173
Words: 140
Class/Type: Poetry /Misc
Total Views: 195
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 891



And why you do not love me,
and why do I not love myself –
the intercostal space
pierces my house –
both lesser
than a shuddered lash. So help me
when I kiss the screen
in your forgotten image-

My grandma calls it fate.


I could be back ten fifteen years prior –
before I left – my dancing self
said this was it – the brilliant winter sky
framed in a sudden window, and parquet
all for my taking –

the promise
I never quite fulfilled.

So what is there left for me
except misquoting Rilke
and drinking too-sweet Baileys
out of a pornstar chute
pretending I can smell Amalfi lemon
in my cheap cheap

Submitted on 2022-03-28 22:31:35     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  Challenge issued, those who view should comment. This is good stuff!

| Posted on 2022-06-18 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]
  Bailey's for breakfast? Sounds good to me.
The jar thing... yeah, but I do feel somewhat cracked. ;)

| Posted on 2022-05-22 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]

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