Poll: Votes!
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View poll results: Votes!
7 54%
3 23%
3 23%
Voters: 13.

Inertial Navigation

i started to feel sick,
like i'd gotten used to the spin
just as it finished.

she danced like she
was trying to move something
across the room with her hips,
and she did.
it's the way
she touches me
like she knows
she shouldn't be,
the way her lips
look so innocent
as they sin across my skin.

it was a night of lustful misgivings
and explaining why the moon
looks so small in your hands.

and sometimes i mistake things
for what they really are, like
those summer nights
we killed our time
watching the stars drip
from the sky.

What Can I Do?

So what can I do?
Besides simply sit here,
Sippin on my, cup of warm milk.
In my, rabbit cup.

It brings back memories,
Of when, I was just a child.
In a fun filled world,
Where did the fun go?

It leaves with you,
My love it leaves with you.

The next time I go,
To where you work,
I’ll ask for some milk,
That’s warm not cold.

This place brings back thoughts,
Of when we, had our talk.
You said that you loved me,
So much.

But baby where does the love go?
When you, get up and leave.
Oh darling where does the love go?
When I, wave goodbye.

Now run along, and don’t get into mischief.
Now run along, and don’t forget I miss you.

So baby what can I do?
Besides simply sit here,
Lookin at my clock,
Hoping you return.

Hoping you return
Hoping you return
Hoping you return
Sometime soon.

Gehenna (The gate to Hell)

I stood. A luminary.
Against a viscous tide of shallow breaths
smut rolls wander from a tableau -
as attentive eyes cater a silent pyre
in crest-fallen skies,
while cantering souls lead past a simoniac
gifting Ayin Ha'ra to spurious followers.

I knelt. In half-light.
Upon schema-conduits of barren soles,
Khamsin winds scour laden plains -
as committed minds cater a boundless pyre
in downcast hearts,
while cantering souls present a sacrifice
- with extremis apt - to the edge of Hell's throat.

I leapt. A martyr.
Towards the uncharted depths of Earth's crux
Gehenna's limbs entwine my body -
as destined fingers cater an infinite pyre
with expectant reach,
while cantering souls lift future offerings
above the smouldering sands, ready to let go.
I voted indigo...
it still looks purple to me.
i look down at my hands,
like they were mirrors.