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Tag: Poetry

time zones

time has stopped it is 7:30 not my time hers the simple math makes her older the experience makes me younger what we feel makes us eternal

waking

  up in the morning before the sun rises      too early too fucking early lately it seems unwilling to disperse clouds covering this ravaged land in wet blankets […]

It is a good day

It is the hottest day of the year, a modest breeze cools my skin as I sit under the shade of a fragrant juniper, high clouds filter the sun, a […]

Chipped paint

beside the chipped paint of this aged 
mansion a bird the 
size of...

One Morning

it is 5 a.m. the dark room is still the air is sweet with you

(Im)Purity

"Oh Lord, help me to be pure, but not yet." - Saint Augustine No, not yet, not today Today I want to take you in my arms and plant kisses of fire on your neck