Juvenescence

i remember taking a stroll

to a lane for the brave and bold.

bashing what we crave, we have been told

to be careful and to never be alone.

the world out there grows,

gawky or stocky, six feet tall vines

or shorter in inches, a four-inch fall whine.

a late bloomer rose soon to blossom in cherry,

an early red’s bosom ripened with huge berries.

the capitulum of an excited dandelion

disperses their seeds for the wind to hold upon.

it lays still on the moist earth

to grow and grow to blanket over the dirt.

there was i, besides a plucked out weed,

a sudden flush of pink painted my nose,

while under the far-sighted cosmos;

an endless chalk dotted blackboard.

and there he was, besides a wildflower,

bounded by rules to never deflower.

so we slept through shooting stars,

we weren’t star-crossed nor far,

we sang to our conscience a lullaby

to let it fall asleep within our alibis.

i leant against cold shoulders,

aroused by lavender and flowers in burst.

the grass tickled me with trickles of its sweat.

oh, what is this throb that i have met?

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Dancing on Razor’s Edge

his words had me perform a pirouette

when golden skies slumber down.

stars for stairs, i carelessly step

when my youth came tumbling down.
⠀⠀⠀

how i want to caress his rubber hands

and turn on the radio to his filthy heart,

the sound of bliss will have us slow dance.

nothing will tear our dewy eyes apart.
⠀⠀⠀

but i don’t want it to go on.

crackling bones had rubbed the skin of my foot.

i’ve lost dignity in this bond,

and my foot felt numb like chunks of root.
⠀⠀⠀

what is he, though, what is he?

made of rubber, made of polystyrene

and i’m only a lithe nymph he see,

i need a plastic crown to be his queen.
⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀
still, it hurts, my foot urge to rip.

i’ll be swaying with a ragged gown.

climbing up stars, i’ll carelessly slip

and there goes my youth tumbling down.

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Pots and Pews

an ashy phoenix erupted

from the pair of oxygen tanks,

whatever we inhale, we fed

the beast to wash our angst.

kneeling with cracked skins

and slumber with white in haven,

hushing the inferno from within.

letting out the phoenix that came in,

it flew with blazing wings.

caught by the susurrus of the wind,

it dies, but tomorrow, we’ll sing with the crows,

have one more and in there, he goes.

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