breatheshe counts the freckles on my leg like starsbreathe by ~TaiHizake
and wishes on my knee
the smoke she exhales is like the rolling sea;
she is the sea.
the stars and the ocean were always meant to be photographed together--
one reflects off the other.
i'm not sure which,
but i could lose myself in that image.
where do stars go when they die?we are, at first glance, stars—where do stars go when they die? by ~TaiHizake
reaching together but too hot to touch;
at another glance we’re a constellation
groping in the dark with tender pencil-drawn lines
and a little closer, we’re slumbering smiles
smoldering in our yearning
finding hope in our pencil-sketched
outstretched
constellation
lovers’
fingers
ignorance is blissit’s easier to write something you’ve never knownignorance is bliss by ~TaiHizake
than to bare your soul in a pretty square poem
(hint: that’s why there are so many poems about
love,
death,
and war)
that's why accountants go to heavenwhen you think about it, lifethat's why accountants go to heaven by ~TaiHizake
can be chalked up to just a number.
how many years you live
how many trophies you've won
how many sleepless nights--
a number,
tattooed on your arm
in the creases of your forehead,
the lines around your eyes and
the suitcases underneath them--
how many places you've been
and how many hearts you've broken
are all that's left once you're six feet under;
your name and two numbers,
carved in a rock in the dirt.
rhythmic rain and words for dead treesthis funeral-black night begins withrhythmic rain and words for dead trees by *0hgravity
piano notes soft as the rain soaking
leisurely into wood thirsty for the
warm essence of
heavy
drifting
clouds
clack
drip
click
evoke dead writers with
vintage typewriters, faded
ink stamping out new stories
from old wounds the way
the poets do, old poets with
new admirers
tonight, find
immortality resides
in water
sliding down a fogged window
leaving behind a clear trail--
the way to see out
into the natural world waiting. alive.
listen.
to the trees breathing
sweet wooden beings--
they rattle rain-streaked glass
with their oxygen-laced wind.
you.
ours is a shy onewe were in the car going somewhereours is a shy one by *0hgravity
at a dark scenic pace
the night was steady outside
keeping the stars bright when
my silence took your silence
by the hand and you said
nothing but a hidden smile
the road slid by, double yellow lines
side by side
us for the longest time
till we crossed the great divide
meeting, with soft blinking eyes,
each other's souls
and should we come to the end of
this long country road sobered, weary
I swear it impossible to forget
the burn of forelsket in this quiet,
humming tarry feeling as though
we were the only two beings
left in the universe
Sta.sh
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