The Eastern sea
like an endless field of crushed lilacs
over stardust. The shore, swept gold
as the knees of her sister
far-stretched below the balcony,
and the white-silk lilies
with crystal stalks and Old Viennese petals;
Catherynne M. Valente, from The Oracle At Savannah in “Oracles: A Pilgrimage”
but, here are the reasons why i should // she makes me feel like the swollen desert sun is inside of me and like i am s h i n i n g g o l d e n through all my broken places. // she knows more of me than anyone else. // she’s always been all the best parts of me.
I used the excuse of finding myself so that I could let you go,
Because if I’d been honest with you I never would have known,
That I could laugh without you,
And no longer would I cry,
My face forever smiling,
My cheeks are always dry,
Unless he makes me laugh too hard and then all hell breaks loose,
It’s marvelous how great life can be, when you’re allowed to choose
im a daydream, rosy flushed cheeks and constantly glowing. a voice as sweet as honey and the air that floats around me is soft and heavenly. i leave men starry eyed and make strangers fall in love with me on the train. i make boys cry and have a thousand poems written about me.
On six strings you spoke to me, As the words would not come out, Showed me where to place my fingers, As I tried to play aloud, A song by my favorite band, The only one I’d ever play. As I wasn’t meant for music, Like I wasn’t meant to stay.
Thomas H Cook does
A visit to all vile places.
When he peers at the spot
Where they jump from
The Golden Gate Bridge
He knows humanity even
If he forces himself to shrug.
Because here’s the thing.
When he turns away from his
Ghoulish tourist moment, he
Notices a stranger looking at him
As if pleased and relieved to see
Him apparently decide not to die.
“Selfless, anonymous care.”
There it is, Thomas. That will
Make me cry. Human, it seems.