A man walks into a bar
And asks the bartender for a drink
Put it in a glass or a human body either way they are one and the same
The man stands before the glass stands on the counter
His hands holds the glass holds his drink
Then the exchange
Mouth open the glass lets go of all that it is
Mouth open the man seeks to forget all that he is
Lets go of the glass
The glass tumbles
He stumbles
The glass falls
The man is down
Glass splinters glitter on the ground
Stars hidden by the man on the moon
Who has fallen off his throne
Not quite responds the bartender
As he sweeps what remains of the glass into a dust pan
And he commands the man to stand back up
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is your heart hurt /
did your feet slip in the sand are you /
all right /
in the dark stillness of the night,
everything is warm again
and kind. a susurration of wings.
clairvoyance. squareness and linoleum.
are we still men
if we forget to eat, sleep,
if we spread out in pale grass and melt
and drink blood.
i saw you through dark water /
gleaming on dark water
like so many stars. and like stars
the dawn made you translucent. gone /
and like stars /
you do not love me back.
pink sailboat floating to nowhere
two ships sinking in the night with /
the blackness of night
all around.
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you feel like poetry
it’s 4 am,
it’s just you and me in the entirety of the universe.
everyone else turned into clouds,
now they're falling as rain.
i wake up in your arms,
just how i fell asleep in them.
i feel you breathing,
i feel your heart beat against mine,
i feel you dreaming,
i feel your hair tangled with mine.
you keep me so close,
so close that our souls almost touch each other,
so close that your skin feels like mine,
so close that we might not even be different people,
so close that we might be one.
your voice,
your goddamn voice.
the haze in your voice,
the way you say the words,
the way you carve those words in my soul,
you have no idea about the things your voice does to me.
you’re in your olive green sweater,
i’m unclothed,
but i’m not cold,
you’re all the warmth i need.
i slide on top of you,
you caress my hair,
your fingers tangled with them.
you don't fight them,
you stay there,
tangled,
with me.
you, feel like poetry.
you’re smiling,
the wrinkle on the corner of your eye,
the soft dimple on the corner of your lips,
you kiss me,
you taste like cigarettes.
davidoff cigarettes, the ones you like.
i place my hands under your sweater,
i can feel your body.
i close my eyes,
i take it all in,
feel it in my soul,
then carve your scars onto it.
you’re looking at me,
looking at me feel you,
your eyes are partially closed,
but your smile,
baby your smile’s so big.
you, you feel like poetry.
your hands touch my waist,
go straight up to that deepest point,
they stay there,
mold themselves in me,
decorate themselves around me,
like they belong there,
like they’ve found home,
“please never leave.”
“i want to sing for you” you say,
“i only have one heart, please have mercy on me” i say
with my hands taking your sweater off.
you sing “sunsetz” by cigarettes after sex
my heart skips a million beats.
my hands tremble,
my soul quivers,
just at the sound of your voice.
your hands are so big,
i would fit just right inside the palm of your hands.
you’d carry me,
you’d take me home,
you’d keep me,
you’d look at me and say that you own me.
it would be an honor,
beautiful beautiful boy,
to be owned by you.
because you,
you feel like poetry.
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Winter-Long
Winter's cold is curled
like a lick beneath
underneath the beating heart.
Like a hand of a stranger on my shoulder.
Your name is the white breath
I realease
from trembling lips. It escapes
from me and into the dense air
that carries cold with a purpose.
Loss is a constant companion,
it doesn't fade with time.
I watch it shiver outside
under the burden
of heavy snow.
What does it know of warmth?
I let it slip inside,
and sit by the fire.
but little by little it
takes over. It creeps below,
leaves my body damp and aching,
swamped by run-away thoughts
of you. And cold settles
like a tickle in the lungs.
© SoulReserve 2023
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it can be clean like this,
crystal gaze through grass blade frostbite in rainy december.
his lips finding my cheek like a cat finding its warm bed
over and over and over
and over again,
curving to fit my body,
curling around me because he wants to.
love means: even though you aren’t doing so well right now.
they are outside smoking
or else
talking puffs of speech
thrown away forever.
i like to pull my own feet out from underneath me,
get sick and tired of sleeping in my bed,
go back and beg for forgiveness
but really
begging for kisses.
i sometimes wonder
about that other life i once had,
the ashes of which blew away with last summer’s fires.
now i can stop faking
and take my pills
and forget.
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Anger is powerful. That is why you ask it to hide. Anger is grief's sister. She is mad, absolutely livid, that you try to hurt her. Anger is the father of sadness. He cannot believe that something like this could happen to his son. Anger is the neighbour of consequences, you cannot avoid it for long. Anger is your mother when she has had enough of the world. Anger is your blood and bones, and how long will you hide it away, when it has made a home there.
-gazergirl
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