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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Greetings from a field. I am drunk on cocoa and naked but not in the way that you think. I hope sometimes you remember that you are lanky and graceful because sometimes I remember I confused you. You picked me yellow flowers from the side of the road and your eyes had yellow flecks in the...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I. You don't have to pretend. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, And you don't have to pretend to be "the nice guy," because you already are the nice guy. II. You're going to make someone very happy one day. You made someone happy today, ju...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Isn't it a shame that the fingerprints branded on my wrist are yours, autographing my skin in your pinwheels, loops, and ridges, but you won't let me press them into my palm the way I'd like to, (oh, I'd like to) since other people might see that you're not nearly ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You have to stop saying all of your cute things if your plane doesn't leave until Sunday. Because without you here people are going to get sick of my love poems, but all I can seem to think of is you, in front of the Eiffel Tower, lending your shine to all of Paris, and he...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    and since I was sanctified and since your soul is damned the angels and the demons would rather turn a blind eye on this than admit they made a mistake....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    “Touch me more.” To be frank, my dear, until we play out our unrehearsed teenage indiscretions upon your ugly red couch, I'll touch you no more than it takes to feel the tingle from the electric fence anchored in your chest....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I long to be the me I cannot be; the bold girl in my head who wears gold instead of yellow. She would demand a pedestal of the purest titanium to stand on inside your chest, and a coat of real furs because it's cold there. She would walk up to you, take you by the face and say, "...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    From all I know of fairy tales, I'm supposed to wait for my prince in the highest room in the highest tower. From all I've learned of fairy tales, I'm supposed to fall head over heels as he throws me over his shoulder even though he doesn't know my name. Of everythin...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    To the fortunate finder of this letter: It is my dearest wish to change your life. Of course, I am not saying that there is anything wrong with your life the way it is. I only wish to bring to your attention something that seems to be just beyond the reach of most. You see, dear finder, you are al...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    How I long to give my lips their vacation to your collarbone....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    It hurts to be called a lesbian, even though it shouldn't. It's just a state of being. It's free expression, a trait of love. It's beautiful. It hurts to be called fat, even though it shouldn't. It's all relative, based on the opinions of the judgmental. It do...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I've never wanted to be thin white cotton until today when you lifted your arms to stretch and I couldn't help but wonder how wide your wingspan would be and how close you could get to the sun with those shoulders of yours....
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I wish I could stroke the top of your right hand to feel the cords just under the surface stretching from your knuckles to your wrist, like the strings of a piano dancing beneath the pressure of my thumbs....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Mama raised herself a rule breaker. I would uncross my shiny black Sunday shoes and wiggle down from my place to crawl underneath the pews, because maybe God couldn't see through the wood and cheap velvet. And I still bow my head when the preacher says to, and I still sing the hymns with ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I don't hate you. I like you. Far more than I should, to have only known you like six months, ok? But not in a clingy way, or a weird I-want-the-D kind of way. I like you in the way that sometimes I watch you walk because you're lanky and graceful, and because I like how your...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Our income taxes will come back with both our names but I think I'm done associating with you because, dear husband, you used to fit so tightly against me, your bumps filling my spaces. But I think erosion may have ground up what was left of the soft cheeks you used to hold in your...

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