ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I'm driving west and at the state line all I can see
are canvases of steaming light waiting to be painted
in the brushstroke forest that lies like a crescendo
across the reservoir where the grass washes over our ankles
and my eyes will never open so wide again.
June 12th had all the markings of a fine poem:
thick music scattering lights to the night city
reflecting in the same warm cadence of breezes
and your head resting on my bony shoulder.
You asked me with such sweetness if you could read my poems,
but please don't leave me with my love, with the cats
spilling out of your arms into the contaminated water
of taking in the divine ecstasy of just existing.
I want you to be so happy that when I swear to protect
your solitude, you will promise to escape for me,
to tear off the anxious rivulets that keep us netted
in the seasons as they appear in the Hudson Valley:
three sadistic ellipses promising comfort with the turn
of the next gentle equinox and rattled atmosphere
and my eyes are discs of stone on the drive home
and I can barely hear you over the rising moon
conversing with the broken roads about headaches.
I don't want to go back to my life yet, for
I will be the lonely sculptor of a pulsing century
with my love: a malignant carousel throwing back its wheels
are canvases of steaming light waiting to be painted
in the brushstroke forest that lies like a crescendo
across the reservoir where the grass washes over our ankles
and my eyes will never open so wide again.
June 12th had all the markings of a fine poem:
thick music scattering lights to the night city
reflecting in the same warm cadence of breezes
and your head resting on my bony shoulder.
You asked me with such sweetness if you could read my poems,
but please don't leave me with my love, with the cats
spilling out of your arms into the contaminated water
of taking in the divine ecstasy of just existing.
I want you to be so happy that when I swear to protect
your solitude, you will promise to escape for me,
to tear off the anxious rivulets that keep us netted
in the seasons as they appear in the Hudson Valley:
three sadistic ellipses promising comfort with the turn
of the next gentle equinox and rattled atmosphere
and my eyes are discs of stone on the drive home
and I can barely hear you over the rising moon
conversing with the broken roads about headaches.
I don't want to go back to my life yet, for
I will be the lonely sculptor of a pulsing century
with my love: a malignant carousel throwing back its wheels
Literature
crumbling,
i have been awake for fifteen minutes.
your mouth in the crook of my neck feels
very much like sunlight, very much like i am
seeing things, schizophrenic and blue, hands shaking
like when i drive your car without looking at your body,
multicoloured and alive, listless in the front seat,
our music playing, breathing in the smell of leaves, of warmth.
your voice in my ear, you finding me in a crowd of people,
this is me remembering how lucky i am, how i am
more fortunate than i'd like to admit, knowing that
bleeding does not really hurt, exactly, because you cannot
comprehend the strength of the mind, a queen in feathers
and dark go
Literature
coffee talk
they speak in the
rattle of coffee cups—
sea bent lungs await the press
of the espresso crave lips
as taste fills curling limbs
settling the
stars
in—.
Literature
roads
i always did like the way i swing around narrow curves,
how i glide with the center lines, never crossing them, just following their lead.
it's kind of beautiful when you think about it. that is,
if you can find beauty in that sort of thing.
most people don't find beauty in driving.
fuck, most people don't find beauty in anything.
except maybe themselves or some overrated celebrity in designer jeans.
one of my past boyfriends said he didn't trust me behind a wheel.
"woman drivers" was his reason.
fuck him.
i almost lost my virginity in a car. truck, rather.
didn't happen though. i was too afraid of us getting caught.
we were parke
Suggested Collections
Thanks so much to =SilverInkblot for the feature!
[link]
Featured by =SilverInkblot [link]
Featured by *lantern-rose: [link]
She is terrific. Give her your love.
This has lots of problems but for now
this poem is about driving in Pennsylvania
© 2012 - 2024 archelyxs
Comments51
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I don't know why this eases the move across the world for me.
It just does.
Thank you again.
~CherryLimes
It just does.
Thank you again.
~CherryLimes