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Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Optimism, cut and dried, hanging from the ceiling rafters
sheds its scent as it shakes in the strength of ringing laughter.
This is what my ribcage was, a fountain bright and ocean clear-
the world has given much to me, but taken more than that, I fear.
I feel them still, the shadows of the peace that once I took for granted-
with patience and hard work I know I'll find again that place enchanted.

Sunday, November 9, 2014


The moon shrugs her shoulders
and sheds light from her skin (oh
unspeakable act of rebellion
that they say that it is)- but never
does she abandon her throne, only
closes her crescent luminescent eyes
and sleeps.