love is not blind
i can see
your coarse hair
those dull eyes
coupling with a
gap-toothed smile
i can see
your blob-like body
and flaky skin
broad dark patches
trying to cover it up
love is not fucking blind
i can see
infinite seascapes
in your oceanic mind
ideas ebbing and flowing
from the depths
onto golden shores
i can see
endless fire
in your volcano heart
burning lust and passion
exploding into true
genuine love
love is not blind
love is cursed
making me aphrodite
and you, hephaestus
florida / after the fact by successwithhonor, literature
Literature
florida / after the fact
palm frond / sadsong / spat seeds of sun / see :
pack of rabid boys play chicken with their pride /
silverspoon / blondebang / smugmouth / smile back in portrait
/ refrigerator shrine / dinnertime / kitchen blade makes way to the neck
/ speaks in vague & subtle recognition / leaves with the taste of bitter metal
look up look up / is the sky not enough : bloodorange
the threat of moisture / i95 static / die in traffic / radio silence
gentle rain / griefpuddle
write a lot about pain without so much as breaking bone
colorado / in retrospect by successwithhonor, literature
Literature
colorado / in retrospect
so the hills have become cicadas : swarming
/ sacrificing themselves to fluorescent moons.
a herd of ghost horses stampede / the cul-de-sac /
neon halo / headlights of passerby lead believers out of night.
when i tell you i am leaving /
participation trophy by successwithhonor, literature
Literature
participation trophy
silver spoon sad song gilded
table setting candlestick
hot wax melts slow
placemat blondebangs halo / helmet
smile like son beating
giver / taker away fold
napkin in lap
show your manners / goodface
postcard cheeks turn
aunt judy, the ice dancer by muscularteeth, literature
Literature
aunt judy, the ice dancer
the crises' catalyst was a drunk dial escalating into a month hostage to a strawl: one call to dorothy and you're romanticising pearlescence --
she was not allowed the time to heal, either. when have we ever been? unless trapped inside ourselves -- i find this avalanche more boring than usual, don't you, dorothy?
don't you want to slip somewhere else, for once?
not because
you are frozen in time
by words that sooth,
scathe and seethe.
no, because
you are not the poet,
yourself.
words are frozen
inside by forms
that stab,
stem and still.
because words
are always moving
and it never seems
to be enough
because everything
i write, as you put,
is like everything else
you write.
talk about love,
when you know where i reside
and where i hide,
but don't look for me.
when everything i say,
is like everything else
i've said.
so everything that i write
stays in my works in progress
folders, folded in origami
with cuts and tears in it.
but i've written
about scars
and crying before,
so let me leave this
The Plastic Surgeon by ThornyEnglishRose, literature
Literature
The Plastic Surgeon
Yes, madam, I can certainly give you the face you've always wanted.
For a small extra charge, I can even guarantee that she'll never try to get it back.