Amiss....
oh dear, what all did we not do?
what a rich life did we not lead?
our dreams, our fantasies, all in
those gutters of lil roads slyly
plying right through our houses
(stopping shy of being homes)
— flowing slush and sewage, mad of
heavyweighted dreams jamming
their sticky slimy smooth flow.
(we must dream our way, they said,
we must dream our way, hmm)
oh dear, what all did we not dream?
out in the comfort stations bickering
across busy highways, pungent with
thickly clotted coated urine
punctured with obscene graffiti;
with grandiose plans, and grander
visions, breathing immortality
down the lane, sensing plain
history staring you staring me
in the eye, promising immensity
to all lofty schemes, and eternity.
(and then you travel all the roads,
and you find out big nasty nothings)
oh dear, what all did we miss?
hungry nights, half-forgotten sleeps,
measuring minor heat waves on
sweaty sheets over icky bodies,
bubbling vinyl tapes humming old songs:
claiming airspace with gently-left
creeping puffs of smoke.
(don't smoke, didn't they tell you,
that it kills you bit by bit, like music?)
oh dear, how long left to leave?
warping time in a slowly bending loop,
dipping hopes in softly meshed chains
across territories nobody owns;
crumpled on the borderlines like
soggy clothes on the line, washed up
and disfigured, forgotten by the world
that put it out to dry (with no care
for the rain and the mud and the slush) —
now too weak to look ironed-out
or flutter in any wind.
(but clothes dry, clothes dry,
don't they, in wind, sun or on the run?)
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The Wanderers' Lament
“But I cry to you for help, Lord;in the morning my prayer comes before you.Why, Lord, do you reject meand hide your face from me?From my youth I have suffered and been close to death;I have borne your terrors and am in despair.” Psalm 88:13-15
The Wanderers’ Lament
Oh, God, I stand before You, lost and bleak,A soul adrift, with naught but pain to bear.Each passing day, a torment I must…
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Mal belongs to @riinoaheartilly
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“You could fuck me,” Ami says into the silence between them. He lies across from him on the bed, half an arm's length away, face to face with Mal.
"I could," Mal says slowly.
"Just as you please," Ami continues.
"I guess."
He hates himself for the fact that just the mere idea is causing the blood to pool between his legs. Ami looks at him, studying him with alert eyes.
The erotic charge crackling between them is almost audible.
He could pounce on him right now, with deep kisses and even deeper thrusts, and he knows Ami would let him. But the way Ami's eyes are pleading with him makes him hesitate.
"Do you want me to fuck you?" Mal asks instead.
Ami releases a breath he must’ve been holding for quite some while. He pulls his lips between his teeth – and shakes his head. It puts a stab through Mal's heart. The shame for his thoughts washes a wave of nausea over him.
But Ami still holds his gaze, warm eyes, red cheeks, no trace of disgust or refusal. Mal withstands his silent inquiry and then it clicks and he understands: It is not he personally who is being rejected.
“Would you like me to make love to you?” Mal offers softly, even though the phrasing makes him feel a little silly.
Ami bites his lower lip, but that doesn't stop the smile from spreading all over his face. He pulls up the blanket to hide his face and Mal laughs with him, so full of relief that he almost misses the enthusiastic nod he gets as an answer.
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Ever just think Leo finds his strength through his big brother’s arm? I do
I think about it none stop and it’s both heartbreaking and heartwarming
I just.. SOB
Ever think that Leo getting his big bro’s robo arm as a prosthetic rather than DonDon making him a new one isn’t due to scarce resources, but it was Leo’s own decision? Leo asking DonDon to just let him have that? I think about it every day :’)
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