#wordsonapage

[wildwoodbloom]

The Earth is breathing

A mossy earth breathes effortlessly beneath your feet while other species work in a place between asleep and awake.

microorganism channels populate routes mindfully charted while the mundane sleep.

Bioliminescent dinoflagelletes racing through glowing seas, while I think of you and me.

Industrial bees know no written schedules noting time by the flowers on the trees.

Glacial streams rejuvenate, the place where we are free.

Cracked skin stitched back together with mountain peaks of wisdom, the tenacity of the sea.

Awake!! burrowing creature of comfort, traversing a kingdom of Magnoliophyta reverts to simpler means.

[wordsby-f-blog]

1:27 It is always a few minutes shy of half-past, some odd hour of no consequence, a mid-day cigarette break down in a glass room coughing up its soul on the threshold; sometimes, it is a dark blue night, a time still too early for sinners and a little too late for the honest ones - but there are too few of those. It is waning: hesitating close to the stroke of “we are only midway” and midway is a sanctuary for the uncertain. Everyone has somewhere to be on the hour; shadows crawl with the sun, cities teem with time running across the streets, time slipping through traffic, time standing still on the crossing, cigarette in hand, hesitant: mid-way smile for a mid-way moment of no importance, a few minutes shy of half-past, some odd hour of too much consequence. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #words #writersofig #writerscommunity #poetry #poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poetsofig #poetryisnotdead #writersnetwork

[th-deadon]

October 2nd

Through lost thoughts and second guesses,

I’ve found that there’s a serenity in

a mind that’s left alone to wander.

Signs and maps don’t help,

when your actively trying

to remain lost amongst,

dreams in some vague direction.

I’ve never been so aware of those moving behind me,

as I am when I try to collect myself,

in bushels and baskets,

all gathered up

for you to read.

[wordsby-f-blog]

And of course the great kindness is that things fade with a tenderness akin to the dew that attaches itself to your name. Things fade with conviction, and the world reminds me that I am a formless figure of fantasy, hastening away on a west-bound wind. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #writersofinstagram #poetryofinstagram #writingcommunity #poetry #poetrycommunity #writersofig #writersnetwork #poetsofig #poetryisnotdead

[wordsby-f-blog]

I like to pretend it doesn’t matter, that we are only stale lovers scattering like old cigarette ash, stained sheets wrapped tightly around heaving breasts, unkept rendezvous in a dark night. I pretend we are hazy lamp light seeping through the curtains, the faint smell of toothpaste and corked wine mingling with an aroma of bodies attuned to one another’s touch. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #writersofig #writersofinstagram #poetsnetwork #poetry #poetrycommunity #writerscommunity #bymepoetry #poetsofinstagram

[wordsby-f-blog]

Tomorrow your kiss won’t sting, The lipstick stain on your collarbone Will come off in the shower, My candy-cane heart won’t shatter in your hands And we will carry on. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #poetry #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity #poetryofinstagram #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #writer

[wordsby-f-blog]

And we are both awake and wondering where the breathing will take us: if there are still spaces in between the letters of our names that can fit our bare bodies; if the shadows of our words will fall on our skin like the shadows of our bodies fell onto the pages of the stories we wrote in hurried script. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #words #wordgasm #wordporn #write #writer #writers #writing #writersofig #writersnetwork #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #poem #poet #poems #poets #poetry #poetsofig #poetrynetwork #poetrycommunity #poetryofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #heartofpoets #herheartpoetry #bymepoetry #bymepoetryasia

[wordsby-f-blog]

Portrait of a Poet in Her Lover’s Studio Listen to: Ben Howard - Promise A window. Two figures repose in a dim light. There is little left to say this time of night. There are quiet, supple limbs, skin near skin, a warm embrace lingering in the pale hue of nights that cling to the hours. There is small silence, a room hushed by the poetry of bodies in subtle motion, by painted words immortalised on a tired easel, a study of careful hands caressing tender voids as they make of breathing a portrait of primordial passion. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #words #wordgasm #wordporn #write #writing #writing #writersofig #poet #poem #poets #poetry #poetsofig #poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poetrynetwork #writersofinstagram