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Poetic by analillithbar

poetry and writting by shichimidori

Writings by phantomphan05

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Submitted on
October 6, 2009
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2.3 KB


245 (who?)
forty-nine hours ago: we were pressing fingers together through frosted windowpanes, laughing at our reflections and sticking out tongues through frost-bitten teeth. we were gently whispering through the snow to kiss the glass, the intimacy of our own breath steaming down our throats never able to take the place of what we imagine it’d be like to breathe each other’s carbon dioxide.

thirty-five hours ago: we were running down fields clutching dandelions between our fingers, throwing our heads back to expose our neck to the whipping wind and trusting it not cut the slender expanse of it. we were tumbling down the grassy knolls and landing in the middle of the wheat, in the middle of the cerulean pond, in the middle of danger, in the middle of something we didn’t know how to tag and label.

twenty-three hours ago: we were diving into the belly of the sea and trying to filter out the saltwater with our tongues. we were curling up in coral and seaweed, anchored safely and floating recklessly. we were swimming towards one another but never reaching, fingers tense and stretched out but finding nothing but scales and silt under our nails. we laughed and said this emotion was like a game we couldn’t do anything but lose.

seventeen hours ago: we were flinging ourselves off of the roofs of buildings to see if this new feeling could make us fly. we were racing off cliff edges to see if this bubble of happiness would simply grab the wind with sturdy wings and float. we were arching bodies into the wind, shoulder blades kissing together as we plunged to earth, to water, to reality. we let gravity win this one, but we both agreed nothing was as exhilarating as that fall.

six hours ago: we were scrawling words over our arms, taking sharpie to record the poetry up our calves and curling around our thighs. we were saving our names for last, carving them on each other’s chest, touching two fingers to the skin and hoping with everything we had that the ink would bleed through the flesh and stain the heart. we both had to get dressed and leave but when we went our separate ways, we knew what was under the cotton and denim.
{"i've been roaming around, i was looking down at all i see
painting faces, building places i can't reach
you know that i could use somebody
you know that i could use somebody
someone like you and all you know and how you speak
countless lovers undercover of the streets"
--kings of leon

full title: this might be foolish, but it's beautiful
Add a Comment:
peridot-magelette Featured By Owner Dec 7, 2009
yup, this is beautiful.
ElectroshockkSpazz Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
platinummyr Featured By Owner Oct 22, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
:heart: Beautiful :love:

I lovelovelove the last stanza/paragraph thingy.
:heart::heart: thank youu
Horsewild111 Featured By Owner Oct 13, 2009
Beautiful indeed. Your writing is really good... I just love the intensity of the emotion you put into it.
TheSnowInMyHand Featured By Owner Oct 11, 2009
Such a journey. Leaves one hoping, and remembering. Beautiful.
thank you
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