It hurts, sometimes to reminisce on memories of happiness. But this I say, and it be true I’ve always been in love with you. I am not sad, I will not cry, because I know that I did try to make you laugh to keep you warm and be your calm, after a storm. I…
Tag: flamingpinecone
First Love Poem
I’d like to share my first love poem by yours truly haha! When I told ya’ll I’ve been writing since 98′ I wasn’t kiddin’ Shout out to 8 year old moi; two years after moving to The States and learning English. Enjoy! Poem. My sweet my love. Your my haert. (heart) My sweet juse coconut. …
Porn-star Poet
04.05.18 15:00 She paints with her body on a canvas of climax. scream after moan, a novel is written. She tells of gentle euphoria and wild freedom; songs of belligerence, myths of captivity. Pleasure pallette or hoax? You decide. She is generous, yet filled with desire. Master of guile; a Gemini of duplicity. Magician of…
The Visit
3.25.16 The city cold grasps onto the sunbeams of your exotic skin. clenching onto your teeth, tugging at the hair rooted in your mocha arms. a forced encounter with the parting season; I substitute for the coat your forgot to bring. You rest your head on the hills of my chest as I coo you…
Unexpected
04.08.16 Your lilac chest perfume departs when the sun sinks into a helpless slumber. Lavender scented sex after midnight. The moon emerges from its shadow cast Milky Earl grey traces stain the sky. Your shirt is soiled in notes of sea salt and verde crumble. As you wake your sleeping eyes, I kiss the last…
Nostalgia
02.16.16 Remember the grass? The way it would brush by your hair and look like you have key lime pie highlights. The lemon zest on your head was my decadence. You always smelled so nice. I remember the mint colored kisses the rain would place on your forehead in the summer. Twenty plucks of tulips…
A Fabric Hurricane
02.09.16 Drowned in waves of cotton, I rest my body. Shut eyes, two sealed oysters. A branch of sargassum, torn out by the shore. Swallowing wrinkles of bathypelagic decadence. Yet the mind remains adrift; floating on a raft amidst the silky currents of the mattress, that is the sea bed. Sleepless is the night, a…
Beautiful idiot
01.07.16 21:45 You. You’re beautiful. So goddamn beautiful. A blooming hibiscus in the sun. Shut up. Let no diction escape your lips. I’m tired of cleaning my bleeding ears. Clogged from the blasphemy that is your voice; I am deaf. You’ve infinitely ruined the sound of beauty. Now I must listen with my eyes and…
I am From…
9/20/11 I am from Russian hats. From caviar crepes, to plain white rice. I am from ruined shacks, and castles painted more than twice. I am from the depth of woods; my roots are sewed into the ground. I’m just a minuscule hummingbird, that makes a loud clarion sound. I am from parachutes,…
Money is an Internal Organ
7.12.15 Money is an internal organ I read it in an anatomy book the other day. It is distributed amongst all vital parts of the body. It is near the liver, allowing liquor to corrode it. It is weaved into the lining of the stomach, guiding various medications and dieting pills through the digestive system….
