Poll: Which one bounces best?
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View poll results: Which one bounces best?
3 50%
2 33%
3 50%
2 33%
Voters: 6.
5 days. Multi vote. Don't vte for yourself, and don't vote for all four pieces. Top three score points. Go. Good luck.

Shorts and sunshine legs

Girls blooming in the quick heat
The average ones I always passed by
Flare and flower quickly
Teasing me with their
Dangling vines
But its the eye-jerk, smile-twitch
The true accessories of Aphrodite
Who burst like the dahlias
Their full stems exposed
Balloons of jutting flesh
Every inch purging,
Oh God
Like torturous roses,
Tempting apples in the garden
The flashing petals leave the cider fruit
Blushing at its core
How does one survive such
Billsfully naked limbs?


She clung to the ground,
roots high in the air.
She always knew mother would spit
her out feet first. It
was some sort of basic instinct,
"I've got to come out wrong, that
way if I'm screwed up I'll have
something to blame it on."

Twenty years down the road
and she's still blaming mother
for birthing her in April.
"If you would have waited until May,
I could have come out well sprinkled
and forwards. Then I wouldn't have
three flowers running around in my brain
telling me to plant trees
and kill things."

Mother glanced to father,
father to his grandfather clock.
"Do you wish to go back and start over?"
She pivoted her back toward father,
"No, but I do wish the daffodils in my head
would have been born roots down."

Temptress - That Last Spring Storm

We bathed in the backlash of
a single ruptured lung,
her spit a pantheons' fist,
her fist a mnemonic graft -
while she stumbled,
her arms outstretched,
we dodged.
The coughing waned and
her voice broke upon our spines,
as saliently as the rain
beats against our calloused skin.
We coat our hands in lye;
bury them in alchemists’ soil,
and sprout limbs that cannot
handle the synthesis of aging.
We cling to bones
being worn throughout the seasons,
as the bells atop tulip stems
pendulate until they break -
the weight of their existence
a toll many cannot take.

We shroud this land in jaded plooms,
a battalion of bloom -
as defeatist as we are conceited
in our verdant hoards -
her fortified limbs become
the veils that launder light instead.
Our existence is constant,
yet our roots have no backgrounds,
for there's nothing more unnatural
than a mother burying her son.
Her fingers wrap their way around
our embodied boughs and
in a single breath, she lifts us
from the dirt and scatters us
to the Earth, for yet another year.


A smirk, a blink of an eye.

This winter has been long but
now spring comes along
I can't believe I spent this last year all alone
Now as cold weather goes
and nature starts to grow
I thought that well maybe we could give it a go.

I dream of rivers and lakes
dream of people and places
where -- there is no night at all
Where we can lay in the grass
smirk at time that has passed
While the sun lights us up so we see
all we were meant to see

You spied on me in my sleep
when you slept next to me
You tell "he never closes his eyes completely!"
but with no head on my chest
and no lips on my cheeks
you see -- I'm as dead as could be

I dream of rivers and lakes
dream of people and places
where -- there is no day at all
Stars will blanket us up
with our backs to the docks
While the moon still shine through
our tangling bodies anchored to the shore
as we -- start to be
all it is that we were meant to be

Thing is there is this place
that we both could embrace
With familiar faces and
a new season's dawn;
Thing is there is this place
that we both could embrace
where we could stop to dream
and maybe -- start to be