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Literature Text
i tied it around your bellybutton,
in thirty years you still feel the tug
back home to me
have I met you before?
how many times have
i wrapped this string around you -
how many times did you find your way back home to me?
i see you across the seasons
across the years, across time, across pain
hold me just for a little while,
you tied it around my pinky,
and every time I feel that tug,
i see my arm reaching out in front of me
reaching across the distance
in thirty years you still feel the tug
back home to me
have I met you before?
how many times have
i wrapped this string around you -
how many times did you find your way back home to me?
i see you across the seasons
across the years, across time, across pain
hold me just for a little while,
you tied it around my pinky,
and every time I feel that tug,
i see my arm reaching out in front of me
reaching across the distance
Literature
cardboard memory
pointing to the mirrored river
we wait and the water
confuses everything
barefoot, choosing flower after painted flower
we use the crushed ink to write letters in winter
the distance grows, the river murmurs
light scatters from it paler and paler
and the flowers dry near a melted candle
with a small bitter flame that sputters
there is no more than accusation now
here, when she was here, then
when my heart in the open air
beats a moment
a second
before
this little girl sat in a box on the floor
and i pulled her around
now, much later, there, probably somebody sings
Literature
On Writing
all the words
all the senses
all the dirt and smell and roughness
the bursting heart
fresh cold water
CRASH of waves and then the ache within
trickling nothing tears and itching legs
all these things
someone wrote them, a bit.
How can you tell anyone
else? How can you thrust
the living today
into someone else's soul?
This is just a nut in a banana leaf.
Literature
Where Have You Gone?
Where have you gone, lover of mine?
Where have you been, this unending time?
Have you gone on a train, to a place far away,
Where the mountains sing and the sycamores sway?
Have you taken a boat to an island alone,
Where you sit and you think as you toss a cool stone?
Have you leaped on a plane to see new skies,
Where you watch shining stars with tired, worn eyes?
Have you just walked along roads with rotting old signs,
Where the locals count up your hard liquor fines?
Have you met someone new, sweet, and bright,
Who listens to your stories until late at night?
Have you made a friend that lends a hand,
Who will be by your side in the dirt a
Featured in Groups
you're the ocean i sail across
the storm that makes me sick at sea
for justin
the storm that makes me sick at sea
for justin
© 2015 - 2024 celesteial
Comments3
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Whoa, so amazing writing! Captivating!