

Sign and SignifiedYour eyes are the colour of broken blue china Shattered across your glass lensesSign and Signified
The stains on the the other side show through In the soft brown rays stretching out from the
Blackness of your pupils.
From the dead centre of things in the dead city Where we living beings birthed a stillborn heart.
You would put your lips to mine And draw out my breath, and afterward, As you laughed at the playful innocence of it I felt vacant and robbed And the only way I could be filled again Was to take your breath in the same way,
To rob from your blood the oxyge


A System of Parts and WholesI think you made a boy break his knees falling hard enough. And I think once loving spirits would agree I am not one of those bodies that pass over lightly . And I think against you I scraped like whiskeyA System of Parts and Wholes
Bringing consciousness with a saw's tooth,
Bringing with me, to carve into your undefined being, My own propensity for malady.
With joy in its tiny pieces, into you I would have carved roses. and out of you I would have made a garden.
And I think we became smooth reflective surfaces (slender little knives) From the friction of our rasping idle hands. And


Tonight is off the RecordWhen we kiss, our tongues tie each other into knots And our lips fight for control shifting, slipping into conciseness We diverge and intersect in silent spaces between our eyesTonight is off the Record
Staring at each other, willing transparency without words And getting nothing but the backward politics of dancing above your fingertips, Because we are both total cowards in completely different ways.
When my arm reaches out Your arm slips around my waist like a rattle snake charmed into paralysis, I had my fingers fastened between my lips until you twisted my arm. Clawing and biting, we leave signs of a s


KetamineMy lips will never be beautiful. They will never flow with velvet Comforts to caress over you, soft And numbing with invasive efficiency Leaving surgical marks of cold precision. My lips will never be the threads toKetamine
Stitch and staple those wounds into Pink and purple stains, those serrated
Slivers of captured time connecting our Bodies.
Your lips make celestial s
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No sword is mightier than a pen, fight writer's block with the sword of poets long passed.
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Join our club ~WickedlyLoquacious, express your love of the art that is poetry!
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*squeeze*
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My Portfolio
Katie Franke
Traditional Art Gallery Moderator
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My Music
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My Music
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It's those who dare to really get in that feed me with their eyes.
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Elite Art for the elite at heart : [link]
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We writers constantly work towards a common goal. To describe in such a flowing way, any object, that it may feed the mind's eye more than any picture possibly could.
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May Roses line whichever path in life you choose to take.
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It's those who dare to really get in that feed me with their eyes.
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