i have to get away from this absence
of feeling, it threatens to size me
up to shut me down down like a turtle
shelless and bubbling, waiting for
a plate to rest its weary head upon
--
and we cackle deep
crackling our backs
like fried skins
and snap like bones
before spilling
marrow all over
fronts
of clean shirts
---
the texture i can feel most
vividly in my sleep
is your skin
the smell that harasses
me most nights, and snatches
of day, is too















Devious Comments
Comments
I like the sort of mysterious feeling I get from reading this
--
Gone... Fading... Everything... And, all that could have been...
N I N E I N C H N A I L S
I detest it admiringly.
--
"I don't believe in umbrellas, unless it's to cover someone else's head."
=sandmanno3
as well
xo!
--
I am a poetry admin for *DailyLitDeviations.
interested in collaborating?
writer, photographer, painter, whatever(er) -
I'll mix with words with anything you've got.
Amazing. No less than that.
--
That is happiness; to be dissolved into something completely great.
But they seem like different poems.
First you have an absence of feeling, and then you're feeling the memories.
--
----
I'm not going to ask you to,
but it would be nice,
if my gallery had visit from you.
--
|I||d|o|n|'|t| |n|e|e|d| a|n| a|n|t|i|-|d|r|u|g|.|
Want to end world hunger? Stop breeding and feed the kids we already have.
--E. Soileau
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