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Literature Text
Breaking waves elapse against the shore
in a sea of late evening conversation.
Even amidst company there is distance between here
and now I look across the horizon and upwards to the light.
Pulsing orange, or copper perhaps
it is simply a plane, old and dotty
in the darkness?
So, I turn a shoulder back
to the conversation to find that when I return,
before I can ask, the flickering ember
(of a maybe star) has since faded and disappeared into
nothing.
I will never know it, or if it was,
but if I will, it was, is, and will be,
mine at least.
And now… it is yours.
in a sea of late evening conversation.
Even amidst company there is distance between here
and now I look across the horizon and upwards to the light.
Pulsing orange, or copper perhaps
it is simply a plane, old and dotty
in the darkness?
So, I turn a shoulder back
to the conversation to find that when I return,
before I can ask, the flickering ember
(of a maybe star) has since faded and disappeared into
nothing.
I will never know it, or if it was,
but if I will, it was, is, and will be,
mine at least.
And now… it is yours.
Literature
carousel
we laughed like children high on m&ms,
danced like we were carousel horses,
and jump-roped our way through obstacle courses.
I saved our footsteps in mason jars,
in case we ever needed to follow yellow brick roads
to get home.
home was an illusion:
honesty without truth,
apologies without forgiveness,
I kept home sandwiched between
"never" and "have to."
caroline, they'd say. caroline,
stop being such a dreamer. stop taking
us for granted.
I packed every apology possible
into my breath, left runaway plans lingering
in the silence between family.
when I found you dancing in the street,
I listened for merry-go-round music.
I
Literature
crystallophone
there is a punchcard sin
like a queen of spades smoldering in an alley.
Engine,
you hear how the gears churn,
singing faster than we did before
back when black magic dropped like a
pair of socks from the sky with supplies
taped to a note that said
(oh, look at you now)
'U.S.A.,
freedom.'
such a beautiful brain:
what
what girl
runs on gasoline?
have a gallon
or we can call it a balloon,
and a new pair of glasses
for your tapered eyes
(you peel the bark back on the logs,
darling,
but you're not sure what you see),
and life says,
either nail jello to a tree,
successfully,
or keep your
icicles hanging from the eaves,
ca
Literature
Six Word Story
my mother kept smiles in bottles
Suggested Collections
A scene from late last night at the beach.
It's a little rough and unfinished. I might edit it later... Then again, I might not.
Happy holidays everyone
It's a little rough and unfinished. I might edit it later... Then again, I might not.
Happy holidays everyone
© 2012 - 2024 changers-n-mash
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