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i miss your mouth

             how it dances on mine
             when we don't kiss

(  we're like movie stills,
                           except  ) we breathe
                                                               in
                                                                    and
                                                                           in
                                                             and
                                                                    in
                                                                               until
              we're (  mere lungs  ) echoing
              ourselves,
                           until
                                 the oxygen's so
                thoroughly
    (  well  ) spent, my head begins
                to spin;

i hate to hold my breath but i'm

                    caught on your skin
    your emptied inside beckoning
    me in;

   i love the feeling of drowning, then. Then,
                                                                when
                 we're carbon-drunk enough
   our lips can laugh apart
                 and wrap each other up
   in our forearms;

   laughing, because

   everything tilts
   and our eyes feel bright.

   we're brown bags slowly emptied
   filled and set alight.
Creative Commons License
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
:iconalimari:

Author's Comments

It seems I'm only good for love poems. I am doing my best to keep from the melodramatic ones.

for Gabriel.

Comments


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:iconiamthemonkeyhead:
It seems you have that streak. Nice poem, I found the images morphing in my head which is always interesting. Good work.

--
Perish all thought.
:iconiampoetry:
Nice. :+fav:

--
Poetry is truly boundless. It is my passion, writing to you, that is. I am the canvas.
--
my poetry, lemon
both bitter and tart
you decide the taste of my art

©iampoetry
:iconnestalgica:
This is beautiful. I can hear it.

--
Murble.

Details

May 19
5.3 KB

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