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Written by InkArtist in portal Stream of Consciousness

~drowning in the backwater

touch is a ritual

not a metaphor

it's a drunken migration

through my backyard

where the groundwater burns

where the air surrounding us

is mouthless & borrowing time

like circles of voices

bending echoes in the

unrelenting black

but as an aging mirror listens with

the trees

there is nothing more to hear

because the wind that was here

is gone

because hours long

night is dead verbs in an

uncrowded room

made of rain, made of breath

as we archive the scents of our ghosts

& I curl into a comma

my fingers are wet-knots of ink

with the burden of words

my body remembering when your body

was like summer & I was

an iris, unfolding

but now this bed shakes thunder

from a chimera sky

this bed is

heavy with bruised plums

heavy with you

lah  2.27.17 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Stream of Consciousness
~drowning in the backwater
touch is a ritual
not a metaphor
it's a drunken migration
through my backyard
where the groundwater burns
where the air surrounding us
is mouthless & borrowing time
like circles of voices
bending echoes in the
unrelenting black
but as an aging mirror listens with
the trees
there is nothing more to hear
because the wind that was here
is gone
because hours long
night is dead verbs in an
uncrowded room
made of rain, made of breath
as we archive the scents of our ghosts
& I curl into a comma
my fingers are wet-knots of ink
with the burden of words
my body remembering when your body
was like summer & I was
an iris, unfolding
but now this bed shakes thunder
from a chimera sky
this bed is
heavy with bruised plums
heavy with you









lah  2.27.17 ©®
#poetry  #reflection  #relationships  #thoughts  #personal  #marriage  #introspection  #sadness  #streamofconciousness  #divorce  #separation  #retrospection 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~waking up wednesday

 

 

 

 

january is quiet

& stars move in slow motion

as if they’re falling asleep above

a half-moon shadow

carved on my bed

 

 

there’s dust on the nightstand

 

 

thick, like overused adjectives

searching for nouns to describe this

emptiness, the way it lies

in the shape of a spiral notebook

that writes the history of us

 

 

how thirty-two seasons together

equals the distance between two pillows

 

 

I swallow another mouthful of darkness

& drown myself in sounds of this night

my writer’s ghosts will visit soon

 

 

& these thin walls are whispering

the forecast calls for snow

 

 

 

 

 

 

lah  1.19.17 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~waking up wednesday
 
 
 
 
january is quiet
& stars move in slow motion
as if they’re falling asleep above
a half-moon shadow
carved on my bed
 
 
there’s dust on the nightstand
 
 
thick, like overused adjectives
searching for nouns to describe this
emptiness, the way it lies
in the shape of a spiral notebook
that writes the history of us
 
 
how thirty-two seasons together
equals the distance between two pillows
 
 
I swallow another mouthful of darkness
& drown myself in sounds of this night


my writer’s ghosts will visit soon
 
 
& these thin walls are whispering
the forecast calls for snow
 
 
 
 
 
 
lah  1.19.17 ©®
#poetry  #life  #love  #relationships  #thoughts  #personal  #marriage  #pain  #sadness  #emotional  #divorce  #separation 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Micropoetry

~anonymous

 

 

fifteen thousand

six hundred

sixty-three days

 

 

& I have

nothing left

to give

 

 

you were the

storm

& I was the

waiting

 

 

& I drowned
in the sounds

we made

 

 

inside the

ghost-white

quiet, I

wondered

 

 

did you even

remember

the sinking color

of my eyes?
 

 

 

 

lah  10.21.11 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Micropoetry
~anonymous
 
 

fifteen thousand
six hundred
sixty-three days
 
 
& I have
nothing left
to give
 
 
you were the
storm
& I was the
waiting
 
 
& I drowned
in the sounds
we made
 
 
inside the
ghost-white
quiet, I
wondered
 
 
did you even
remember
the sinking color
of my eyes?
 
 
 
 
lah  10.21.11 ©®
#poetry  #relationships  #thoughts  #personal  #marriage  #micropoetry  #pain  #sadness  #emotional  #goodbyes  #divorce  #separation 
7
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Juice
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