Category: Writing
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smoke
You smell like smokeIt was cruel and trueA club in her handI was wrecked, disjointed It was cruel and trueThere was aftermathI was wrecked, disjointedI’m sure I do There was aftermathI decided to stayI’m sure I doTo stand in the burning I decided to stayA club in her handTo stand in the burningI smell like…
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in my mother’s drawer
In My Mother’s DrawerI found aerial photosThat mapped meOut From afar.From above.Un-Touching. Translated from Hebrew by Natalie Feinstein
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leave all valuables
Upon arrival all lips were collected. You Cannot Enter This Country With Your Lips They say. A woman asks why? They take her child and put it in a cell with other children faceless nameless lipless kids why? why? They take her warm lips Do Not Ask Why. In a line the Bodies move to…
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Morta
Gilded with petrification Many lifecycles of man & beast anoxic lain Drainage disinterred From millennia-locked marshland sump As story out of sculptor’s block revealed This field of posts Marks where a village clung Encircling lakeshore’s cradling womb The precious pull of water These stilted pillars raised Life from lifegiver’s mortal grasp That finally would engulf…
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Holding Myself Back
Now that I’m not holding myself back, what else are my hands capable of? If I ever hate myself, it’s because others taught me. I know how to feel wrong, but I can barely give a reason. Justification is for everyone else but me. I’m 30 & love myself enough not to starve. I stay…
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Durmitor
We’re driving Sprawling hills They roll and roll A tiny street Twists and turns But also Wildflowers They’re everywhere. He and I Blue sky and Paintbrush clouds “Ireland,” we call it We’re somewhere else Entirely Somewhere far away From ourselves We hold hands A song plays (I’ve chosen it) Makes us ponder. Our time together…
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Hallow’s Eve
I am a box of crayons.My little brother is a dinosaur.My older brother, Jason, is a spider.My dad is probably a Native American.My mom is Minnie Mouse.We’re probably handing out the best treats in the city.Water bottles stuffed with candy.The sixteen-piece.The doubles.Dark chocolate.Nougat. It’s snowing.We’re wearing long sleeves because our costumes don’t conceal us enough.No…
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that kiss was mine
That kiss was niceI had a dreamI felt the touchWhose lips on mine?Methought, benignYour lips I felt… on mineAnd I was loved by you at lastBeloved, bedeared by you at least…And glad I was,I thought of thee…How sure I was it real to be!´Twas not a crime:That kiss was mine!
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Flowers Beauty
A Flower Blooms, despite its surroundings. With its Stem of Thorns With it’s Roots of Competition. Beauty usurps its surroundings The less to match it, The more to grasp it. We are Human We are blooming. We don’t have to Kill to be beautiful We don’t have to Till the ground to be beautiful. We…
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Lass-scorned
Alas! my lass was hubris-hurtAnd forth she went,Away she turned:“And ne´er e´er see me moAnd shun ye me,Far, thither be!”A crime, it seemed, had I performedAnd clogged her ear from all my talk.She scorned my heart,Its swell and naught.The haughty lookAnd way I walkedWas spelled to nilAnd killed in thought:“I curse at thee,Hurl ye from…

