The city they are building asks you to stay; remind yourself what is worth keeping, while the lighthouse of your moan warns the ship of your heart that he is a stone.
Mikl Paul
They spent a summer talking beneath the redwoods. There was a curiosity to the way they knew. She would take his hips in her hands and turn him to the left, so the sun would not be in his eyes. He would take her hips in his hands and turn her to the right, so the sun would not be in her eyes. It is a dance. A very careful way they care.
poetry dance art curiosity talking sun care eyes summer hands left
And you taste / of the memory of god abandoned.
poetry poetry-quotes
poetry prose poetry-quotes
I want to gossip about forever / against the part of your back that / is mine.
I negate this distance with / what it would be / to be shining you.
poetry poetry-quotes prose-poetry
There are these places on your poem, / where I want to write bodies.
Maybe they will only find one another by being somewhere they have never been and maybe none of this has a thing to do with forgiveness but home doesn't always resemble the path.
poetry prose-poetry
He left her a note in her right slipper that said when I was alone yesterday I was happy, and I wanted you to know. Because look at how much you've done in me.
There is a deep truth in being at home enough with someone to kiss them while your lips are dry. And happiness may not be the greatest of things to hear, but it should be.
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