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Literature Text
it was autumn's beginning
when he scattered a combination of kisses
on my collarbones & chest
(the rusted gate to the crevice of my crux)
in a vain attempt to unlock the possibility of a love so parched,
like the terrain of his treachery,
that the sweat determined to fall down our backs
would be enough to quench his thirst -
as if each kiss would be enough to transform my entire core
into a garden of his own
to play in.
with each kiss
he planted flowers in my heart,
with roots down to the core of my being,
knowing of the dark clouds
pouring down the rain from my brain,
nourishing the fruits of his labour
in a cool whirl -
a breeze enough to ruffle even the smallest of feathers,
swirl the dead-most leaves,
& arouse the most dormant
of souls.
even if each kiss was enough to transform the crumbling of gates
(like an autumn leaf
slow dancing its way to the ground
in a fear of being crushed
by the foot steps left on my heart),
the falling of summer's lust,
& the trembling of hands against the chilly air
into ember-tinged petals
(to keep summer's spark alive),
he would believe my weathered mind incapable of rising from the ashes.
he was a summer gift,
a present to the future of no future
but autumn was always his favourite season -
he never did like to watch the flowers
bloom.
when he scattered a combination of kisses
on my collarbones & chest
(the rusted gate to the crevice of my crux)
in a vain attempt to unlock the possibility of a love so parched,
like the terrain of his treachery,
that the sweat determined to fall down our backs
would be enough to quench his thirst -
as if each kiss would be enough to transform my entire core
into a garden of his own
to play in.
with each kiss
he planted flowers in my heart,
with roots down to the core of my being,
knowing of the dark clouds
pouring down the rain from my brain,
nourishing the fruits of his labour
in a cool whirl -
a breeze enough to ruffle even the smallest of feathers,
swirl the dead-most leaves,
& arouse the most dormant
of souls.
even if each kiss was enough to transform the crumbling of gates
(like an autumn leaf
slow dancing its way to the ground
in a fear of being crushed
by the foot steps left on my heart),
the falling of summer's lust,
& the trembling of hands against the chilly air
into ember-tinged petals
(to keep summer's spark alive),
he would believe my weathered mind incapable of rising from the ashes.
he was a summer gift,
a present to the future of no future
but autumn was always his favourite season -
he never did like to watch the flowers
bloom.
Literature
things
i hope you realize
the light you saw in my eyes
was nothing but your own reflection
Literature
*Warm Summer Night*
Echoes from distant footsteps
Night draws down it's shade
Shadows cast by street light
Daylight slowly fades.
Lace curtains delicately flutter
Hot night, windows wide
Sleepless murmurs, whispers
Day into night quickly glides.
Luminous light on horizon
Light chases shadows dark
Quiet moments speak volumes
Wait, do you hear the lark?
2013 Delice1941
4th September2013
Literature
Speaking for the trees
From the tree tops
I can see it all so clearly
The ripples fading further
a tip-toe and a stolen kiss
Outside the hive where we have wandered.
Speaking for the trees,
We stand taller now than ever before
Not to see the writing,
but to hear the whispers
behind closed doors.
I reached...
and touched what I thought was the sun
and noticed it was just beyond my fingertips
but my tiny hand is warmed
by two lips
and that became more important to me
than any sun could be.
Speaking for the trees
Some have made their homes in me
climbed inside my head
behind my eyes
opened the door to my soul
He said he saw a sunset burning thr
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fiction. he hated autumn.
---
my entry for `dreamsinstatic's 5th Annual Poetry Screams Prompt Contest. the prompt used is "autumn kiss".
---
admittedly not one of my finer works. i have spent too much time simply staring at the outline of this piece & feeling unable to adequately fill the words in so feedback is more than encouraged.
EDIT: changed line breaks. am i doing this correctly?
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