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Literature Text
i. bonsai
branches overrun beyond their shapes, we
tangle ivy and run. topiary without the sense,
bonsai without the clippings, we make jungles
out of our sentences and run on in endless
roots. I wish the soil would go on forever
but oceans roar on the fringes of our forest
daydreaming. drown me in ferns, and let
me rot in the dark mulch of your palms.
ii. mandala
we loved liked painting a mandala of our affections
stretching kisses in sweeping arcs, the nights
pillow-dreaming of forever in intricate knots
and we laid ourselves out on wet sand
waiting for fickle tides to sweep us clean and
wash away our sins.
my only sin was that I loved too much, said too
little, and wanted more than I deserved in the
eyes of a foreign god
iii. lotus
swallowing the lotus seeds of your veiled confessions
love sprouted above the turbid waters of my cynicism
my doubt, see these flowers in my eyes, see these open
lily pad palms, you planted this and yet you stand with
shears ready to take cuttings of my affection and plant
them in the arms of boys with koi carp tattoos ready to
devour me lattice-heart and all.
branches overrun beyond their shapes, we
tangle ivy and run. topiary without the sense,
bonsai without the clippings, we make jungles
out of our sentences and run on in endless
roots. I wish the soil would go on forever
but oceans roar on the fringes of our forest
daydreaming. drown me in ferns, and let
me rot in the dark mulch of your palms.
ii. mandala
we loved liked painting a mandala of our affections
stretching kisses in sweeping arcs, the nights
pillow-dreaming of forever in intricate knots
and we laid ourselves out on wet sand
waiting for fickle tides to sweep us clean and
wash away our sins.
my only sin was that I loved too much, said too
little, and wanted more than I deserved in the
eyes of a foreign god
iii. lotus
swallowing the lotus seeds of your veiled confessions
love sprouted above the turbid waters of my cynicism
my doubt, see these flowers in my eyes, see these open
lily pad palms, you planted this and yet you stand with
shears ready to take cuttings of my affection and plant
them in the arms of boys with koi carp tattoos ready to
devour me lattice-heart and all.
Literature
an infinitesimal sibilance
a wisp of a whisper
remains in possessions
long after we're gone
perhaps forever
things we create
or build
or just treasure
faint echoes of others
faint echoes of us
still here
llp - dA - oct2013
DD - jun03/2015
Literature
Chrysanthemums
fresh-cut grass
mingles with chrysanthemums
a windchime sings
Literature
on the difference between life and living
otherkids grew up learning how to avoid obstacles
while riding their bikes without training wheels
skateboarding in parks with the company of their friends
loving family
and a thing called happiness,
I
grew up using guess-and-check to
complete the square for quadratic functions,
but more importantly,
to add on to my ever-growing list on
how to not provoke a mom I always feared
and how to not think about a dad I never knew.
you say that you saved me,
that I should c
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30/6/16 the same love story told from a different window.
I have been dreadfully absent here, partly because of your average post-graduation existential crisis and partly from being in Paris for a long weekend. But I'm back, and hopefully will stay back and break this month-long writer's block at last!
MAF 27
Hello Gorgeous, pt. 6
It's coming on autumn now.
I have been dreadfully absent here, partly because of your average post-graduation existential crisis and partly from being in Paris for a long weekend. But I'm back, and hopefully will stay back and break this month-long writer's block at last!
MAF 27
Hello Gorgeous, pt. 6
It's coming on autumn now.
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Comments11
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I rather enjoy this.