i count anniversaries big & small (a week, a month, two months, a year...) hoping that eventually we’ll have so many that i’ll lose count.
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祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin
YOU ARE THE REASON

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@mooncrumbles
i count anniversaries big & small (a week, a month, two months, a year...) hoping that eventually we’ll have so many that i’ll lose count.
torn asunder in black light truths
gaunt & vociferous
tarantella youths
scarlet and ravenous
ashen & cavernous
with tar-slogged lungs heaving the sovereign hue
with you I'm a spinning wavering top floated by suffocating hope tethered to far too much gravity
this feeling describable only in feathers softing a whisper; “obsolete”.
Your eyes are a new word- hazelovely.
ragtime for the melancholy
we’re rubbing the coke cans we kicked to where the sidewalk ends and hoping for three wishes to come out a sticky celestial to make our lives fizz
but the tin’s just tin and under our skin the asphalt is crawling and scraping our knees
and one time at just after 10 thirty they reached for some leaves but the whole branch came down too and i guess the story doesn’t matter after that
we’re chased to exist and rivaled by glass
and now the gentle purr of a waking fizzling shards of granulated sky burn frostbite kisses onto our cheeks
flat music from an empty calliope a single flickering streetlight and a dense build-up of static electricity filling your head tells you silence WhispersTossesSpins
screams
7/29/18
are you where hidden in the ever-west aways?
always ever there in the far and shrugging under heavily the near?
where the sea blanket and heavy and plastic serves haven for your ever-west goneness?
middle and mountain and covered in rain here i am ever-not in the west
am i here hidden in the ever-center aways?
where never your ever-west rays reach?
it’s two-thirty in the morning and i can’t sleep (won’t sleep) because i am filled with the memory of you the whirlwind of us hands intertwined legs entangled arms embracing like we didn’t belong anywhere else only there
and we didn’t belong anywhere else for those briefest of hours shivers of time it couldn’t have been any other way
but i won’t tell you any of this (and i won’t sleep)
being sunlight is a sunday afternoon the 27th, specifically &joyously and mirthfully and sunfully feet floating up into the mountain breeze eyes squinting to the very precipice of the above foreheads glimmering in salmaroon light if a cloud existed you couldn’t see it through the brightness swinging in the summer sky &the goddess of life smiles stories beside you &tales of watering empty plots of dirt until life sprouted her way into this world &birds &their songs tickling your starving ears &kindness and love and laughter when you’re tired to your very marrow at 2,3,4,5 am and drinking coffee to glimpse the sunrise &the trees whistle gentle midday lullabies sweet enough to combat the nectar of the honeysuckles you’ll crush between your bare toes as you frolic &you fall into the grass &you’re alive &you’re brimming with it &you fall &you’re alive
sunflower eyes ~in motion~ sweet nothings everythings fall the foggy breeze mumbled in late night phone giggles whisperwhisperwhisper
is that the moon? she lingers so gently Ever moonly In her cloudly aubade
piano twinkles in the lullaby you wrote me the harp sings 3 am kindnesses like your sunflower eyes
a lifetime in a moment we feel the moon crumbles as they glitter the sky landing gently on our starlight skin in black sky whispers in 1am alarm clock warnings for urgent poetry…
4.1.18- sunflower eyes
and roots for fingers you bloom even in the most turbulent of places plant seeds of love in hearts roaring with swells that make the ocean bow in awe-filled reverence [heartsfilledwiththingsthathavekilledeventhesturdiestoforganisms]
yet there you thrive
where others have witnessed the storms and declared, “not even the grittiest among us could survive such desolation” you gently unfold your petals into the direction of the gale and you say,
“what beautiful weather we’re having today. finally, weather that digs beyond the pleasantries of a sunny day. weather that forces you to feel something.”
hope tells me
that she likes the fog full moons eclipsed by overzealous clouds moon-suffocating clouds pockets of rain drenching starlight people soaked in rain trains wailing 10 pm, 11 pm, 12 am, 2 am, 4 am
that she sees me in moonlight telling truths that will soon be secrets not sweet nothings sweet everythings
(there are people outside the window laughing) heart-string-tangling, pulse-quivering, soul-encapsulating
Everythings
and she tells me that love is an option and i tell her to leave me alone because hope likes to tell a lot of people a lot of sweet nothings
lots of them