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Literature Text
You're my lava lamp, I told him one night
What the hell is that supposed to mean, he asked
I don't call him my lava lamp any more
What the hell is that supposed to mean, he asked
I don't call him my lava lamp any more
Literature
saudade
Last week, you showed up with the thunder on my doorstep.
Your voice was so drenched with the rain that I almost didn't recognize the way you said my name. It hung in the air like an incomplete sentence, like something unfamiliar, like you were so lost from trying to find everything we left behind and piece it back together that you couldn't find me in your heart anymore. It was pouring and the power was out and I was so tired of watching the world fall apart from outside my windows that I let you back inside my arms and inside my senses, and your bones were shaking as you clung to me and told me how good it felt to come back home.
There wa
Literature
blue baby blues
i.
peacock feathers of smoke
brush over my calves
the plumage working its way
through the stockings & skin
to nestle into the muscle
where it will root like an acorn
and grow into an oaken pair of wings
to lift my feet from hardwood floors
so i can dance
with my knuckles brushing against the ceiling fan
ii.
Literature
Snowstorm
The children misheard you.
They broke open the jar
looking for petals
and found only flours.
The dust is everywhere,
settling everywhere,
on the refrigerator and the stove,
on the startled mother cat
yowling her pawprints
through the snowy floor,
on her sharp-eared kittens
prancing in the clouds.
The three-year old is screaming.
He has cut his finger on the glass,
there are red streaks in the snow,
and his white-faced brother
stares up at you with a look
commonly reserved for
the confused and the betrayed.
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I don't know wether or not you think it's random, but I wanted something interesting that could symbolize a light in someones life.
© 2008 - 2024 Nefiret
Comments31
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Its sort of awkward when people can't connect the dots between the literal and the metaphorical.