

afterwordsafterward/ itsafterwords
the things i want outside of me and your hands remind
me of satin dragging against the grains how it snags on splintered wood when our teeth scrape and our lips move like two virgins
raping eachother it makes no sense how i hate how
i love
your hair on my skin how i hate
anticipation and how i have to keep myself
from closing my eyes
always


passis an empty vase the same as a dead field?pass
people talking in circles around the edge of a cracked egg shell carve the evidence of inadequacy breathing or seeing prelude the next 5 minutes and the concrete like stairs jumps in front of you carrying you higher toward stars and god to surmount the cliff
you step off a ladder but the climb has no abrupt end only so fast as to remove
or rewind the last 80
minutes of your life young footprints in the sand make a wall
craving some confiding shadows but smiling is l


same old situationscraping up old thoughts selfless judgmental complication common compliment from gentle finger stroke gestures infesture sin the way they wore their hair got under your nail the dirt, the penniless anger the no further in danger, ofsame old situation
global instinction and thoughts are more like the seasons mental fatigue slip sideways through adjacent misgivings barriers or carriers it's all the same when you flip the channel its another mans game a name misplaced on a shelf above all with which i under stand t
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pleaDUB
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check this out ~Final-Overdose
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Darker nights bring brighter days...
darkernights.com
michaelflores.me
You might remember me... I used to read and comment a lot on your poetry, than I totally disappeared.
Well, the reason for that was that I totally disappeared from devart for about a year. There are some reasons for that, just as there are some reasons for my returning, but I'd like to say I'm sorry for disappearing from here so abruptly.
I see you've been submitting stuff, and once I get myself sorted, I'll get around to reading some of it and maybe even commenting.
Anyway... I must confess I'm not sorry for deserting the whole devart thing for a year, but now that I returned, I feel pretty terrible about deserting the community--especially the people I had regular contact with... Like you.
Please forgive me.
Peace,
spacefly
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"If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it truly is, infinite." -William Blake
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