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Lovers"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Her eyes crawled from corner to corner as she mouthed the question. Do I have a boyfriend? After what felt like an unnecessary contemplation she said "...I know a lover, but I don't have him."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know if he's mine. He doesn't go by Mine ... that is to say, many could call out Lover! and he would answer. I could call out Mine! and receive no reply."
"So this guy, whose not your boyfriend, doesn't it bother you that he doesn't feel the same way about you as you feel about him?"
Her head lobbed to one side, as if it were weighted, her eyes found another corner, higher this time, right above my head. She may have been smiling, I didn't think so at the time but now as I reflect upon it, I believe she was. "I've known many lovers" She said "Many of them are strangers now. Strange thing, to know someone intimately, the crevasses of their body, their dark thoughts, and then in a blink, they are
Concernedly UnfleetingShe woke up as the sun did. Slowly creeping out of bed, eyes still half shut, her figure a small silhouette, fumbling about the bedroom. And then suddenly, I swear, I merely blinked, and the whole room was glowing with her presence. Her warm smile reflected the warm cup she placed in my hands and we just sat smiling to one another, to our selves, witnessing the blues of the day come into focus.
You see, the sun was on the verge of rising. Too cold outside for the stunning rays she was known for. Today would not be a day for warmth, as our little morning cocoon would have you believe. No, today was a day for clarity, at it's best.
Everything sparkled. The snow covered cars, the ice covered trees, her dark brown eyes. It felt magical, yet at the same time, untouchable. Frighteningly magical. The world outside my window looked Disney inspired, friendly, unreal, and frozen. Literally and figuratively, a beautiful winter still.
How in the world is this moment, this time and place, st
This is the Door I Left Open For You
You knocked and knocked. When I called out
for you to come in, the knocking stopped.
I peered out the window and you were gone.
I hesitantly moved on.
I got up and closed the door, realizing it was
a ding dong ditch. From time to time
you still knock, but the door stays
Sleep ChildSleep child. The day is done.
A sweeter song is being sung
than the morning's rooster call.
Sleep child, this day is done.
Rest easy. Time will stop
before a new day has begun.
Sleep child. Sleep quick,
before dark steals your thoughts.
The night creeps on by
while you're wide eyed.
Learn to SwimThey lined up and dove in. Every one of them sunk like rocks.
Their eyes were red when they came up. They cried, I think, it was a pool of tears.
Choking. Breathing. Laughing.
She laughed a knowing laugh.
"If you stay in the shallow end you'll never learn to swim."
I don't live by the ocean and I don't enjoy the sea,
so what does your wisdom have to do with me?
I waited by the door but you already left, so I waded
in the water and took a deep breath. I unstrapped
the vest that protects my chest. I shut my eyes and plugged
my nose and pretended I was a balloon. Gravity wasn't pretending
and reality pulled me under. Flailing to float
and failing, my heart deflated. I gulped down
water not fit for drinking. Soon the sinking stopped.
My toes reached cool tile
and I thought that
this must be
how it feels
to walk on the moon.
Moments felt like minutes,
pushing toward the surface,
bouncing back to Earth.
DriverI spend my evenings predicting the future.
I will lay awake, with my eyes closed in the dark,
considering hypothetical scenarios of what it might
be like if that happens. Predicting how it will be
even though it is never is what you'd think, unless
that is what you make it. You create it.
I are not a passive passenger riding in the flow
any relationship. I am the driver. I figure out
what I want, and make it happen with that person.
I choose to laugh.
O.R.B. He opened the front door and it didn't creak the way he'd expected it to. The house didn't know his father was dead. It was still fresh smelling, alive with plants and natural light. The curtains in the living room blew around, excited by his arrival. Ted had to push against the wind to shut the door. The house was quiet, anticipating his next move. He had to remind himself to stay on task. Do not pout around, don't touch everything. Find the papers and do what they say. In and out.
It had been years since Ted set foot inside his parent's house. He forgot how Home and Garden's everything looked. Rather than being in his childhood home, Ted imagined he'd stumbled onto a made for TV movie set. Any minute a man would yell CUT and the walls would come down. Ted waited, and nothing happened. Every room was picture perfect out of a magazine. All shades of green and brown. The dishes and table sett
Lovers SpinningI faced him with nervous anticipation as our arms intertwined. His large hands easily clasped around my wrists. I too, held on to him. We began to spin, slowly at first. Everyone around us flashed looks of agitation, but I knew it was envy. He smiled and took pride in the fact that I was playing along. His feet sped up so I tried to keep up. We both laughed as our world disappeared into a kaleidoscope of color. Our shoes dug holes into the ground. I didn't want to slip, because I knew he wouldn't let me go and we'd both go tumbling down.
We'll either decelerate or fall into the grass together. That is how it will end. It will be soft and will not hurt. Afterwords, we will wipe joy tears from our eyes. So I hoped.
As our speed increased, so did doubt. I was sure we were spiraling out of control. My mind flashed forward, anticipating the release. Any moment now his hands will escape mine. I will fly away from him. My vision will be hazy without his face to focus on. I will be lightheaded
pick up the slack and
pick up that slack-jawed shadow of yours
dragging on wet pavement under your soles
and hurry it along, we ain't got all day here
flex your white-boned fingers and
taut knuckles and pluck the soul from
its coffin in your slick throat
the sun has better places to be than in your sky.
Universe Inside Herthere is a universe inside her
systems upon systems
sometimes they collide,
or overlap and pass
some bright and expansive
as newly forming stars
some dark and vacuous
as old ones collapsing
there is a universe beside me
in this bed, she is my earth
hills and valleys
through shared rock shelves
our collection of mismatched
objects and moments
fractured and whole
to the balance
and gravity between us
our lives combine here
we heal and break
in the shared ache
of empty and full
there is a universe inside us
around us, with
and without us
our moons mature
spin off and center
their own galaxies
and we'll be here
in the shared ache
for our new
from the starline
Our destiny is determined
Reliving the past
Enduring the suffering
Visions of the future
Endeavours to come
Representing life as a whole
the gardenersMy father is a good man.
His hands, dry and
callused, carry a case
of Corona Lite
to the gardeners in
Big-brimmed hats cast
shadows down their faces,
and a pile of thick,
gray gloves lies
on the glass table.
The beer looks like liquid
gold in those clear bottles,
and condensation clings
to the glass like the sweat
beading at their brows.
My father and the gardeners
drink, laughing like they’ve
known one another for years.
There is nothing
that brings men together
better than beer
on a hot day.
grow upyou say
i am weak
i have never
worked for anything
i am not sorry
i should take
the pills the doctor
i will never
know what it is to
hurt the way that you hurt,
plant me in the ground
listen to the way my nature sounds
when i turn from something black
to something luminous, proud
you turned me into a shadow, you prick
remember that? remember this?
yeah, the condom broke, you
piece of shit, at least i tried
to be careful, at least when
you cried, i kissed your
say what you want
about my judgment.
my immaturity, my general
lack of readiness for
anything. but i was good
to you, and i tried,
and i am sorry that
you hurt so much
that you can't
do it as elegantly
as i can.
you have never
learned to love
the grit: the place
where my spirit sags,
where my love
as if biology could have been any clearer,
cleaning your spit from my bedroom mirror-
i can smell your genes and
they smell fucking good to me,
but i keep telling myself,
9 Countenances for the Curious1.
My limbs have become instruments,
but, unlike the piano of your memories,
I am still not anyone's to play.
I think I am finite,
that the limits of me are dictated
by flesh and numbers
on an inverted scale
but the dog on my lap
doesn't care what I weigh;
she wants only
to love me and be loved.
the pain that anchors you
strains your back,
the ship of your life
is hamstrung upon a reef
and you think you are watching
a dolphin at play
but siren songs deceive you.
my ship sank beneath the waters
years ago, this bubble of life
sustains me even as i drown:
there are storms in the depths
of me, and you see only
the ocean's calm.
At 7, I swallowed stories
like candy; didn't understand
that too much leaves you bloated.
At 17, I breakfasted on books
like pancakes; too caught up
to tell (some things should be special).
At 27, I feasted on fiction
like home-cooked meals; didn't know
some of it could poison you.
At 37, I hope I will be picking
at poetry; letting the flavours
of the words
The Washed MindI have let the difficulties flood my body
From head, the worries slip to my heart
like children falling through the cracks
of some broken floor
under which is nothing besides me
My mind is melting from the inside
Swarmed by maggots and the meaningless questions:
Would my mind work better
without all these walls
stopping it from evolving?
Where did these obscene problems come from?
Surely my mind was born free
Surely my opinions exist somewhere...
Or is freedom nothing but a joke
to the true me?
So, I ate nails and needles to clear my mind
The bleeding and the pain
were both evil and refreshing
I have learned the lesson
fairy tales are the shadows on my eyes
Now my mind is clear as melting glass
running down my cold spine
washing away the sins,
violent thoughts and sorrowful memories
from the edge of my past
coefficientsi cut the line at church today.
went into that dim room,
the one where you can't see who's there,
knew enough from the movies to
sit down and ask the curtain to
forgive me for i have sinned
and the faint light quivered
as he and she and the air
all laughed and god came
down and looked me in the eye
and in that darkness asked me
why i'd wasted his time repeating
what every goddamn person and animal
and plant had already told him-
said you think you're all unique
and i'm damn near at the end of my patience
with telling you that you're not-
i cut the line at church today
and saw some of god's skeletons
hanging in his closet.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More