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 Jul 2016 aar505n
Akira Chinen
Love is not a singularity
It is a whole
One cannot extract a part
Or worship only one piece
It must be accepted as a whole
One cannot only enjoy the soft warm places of love
The pleasent corners and pools
The weak seams that easily split
The lose threads that unravel with the slightest mistreatment
It takes great and delicate strength to walk its halls
Love is complex
And beautiful
It has hidden shadows and dark nights
It cries to the moon and begs for the sun
And it comforts them both in turn
Love is filled with dreams and hope
Longing and doubt
Wishes and tranquilty
Torment and viciousness
It resides in both angel and beast
Heaven and hell
And earth
In the tears of god
And the blood of the devil
One cannot claim it as there own
One cannot truely love any other person
Before loving them all
One cannot give love
Without giving themselves
First to love
Love is of our time
Our blood
Our soul
Treat it well
As you treat others well
Give your all to love
And give all your love
To those in need
Life and love
Though never perfect
Are always
Beautiful
 Jul 2016 aar505n
Erin
I have given you
so many things.
With a child's light innocence,
I've handed you my creations,
my emotions, my affection
(everything
I value most).

You took them,
excitedly at first, hung them up,
saved them in a box.
But as time wore on
and the novelty wore out,
you took it all
with a thin smile
and threw it in the trash.
 Jul 2016 aar505n
Marquis Hardy
I remember the sun hitting the white sheets in the middle of the day. I was getting up to clean, and she was still lying there. The natural light poured in from the window and drowned her face forcing her eyes shut while she sang along to her favorite song. She somehow managed to dance with her whole body while she was still laying down, and I’m sure those sheets had never felt happier. I wasn’t getting much done, unless you count memorizing her movements, and the impossible way her smile was brighter than the sun. I keep trying, but I can’t remember her face; It’s just her smile. That’s the last thing I remember, I don’t know how I got here, and I honestly don’t really know where here is… Why are you crying?  

She wiped away her tears, “I-I’m sorry. I could just picture her opening her eyes and seeing you recording her every motion. I can see you standing there through the sunlight motionless and mesmerized at the sight of her lying there, dancing in the bed.”

Yes, you’re right. That’s exactly how it was. Where am I? Where is she?

She starting crying again, but this time she was sobbing uncontrollably.
"You’ve been in the hospital; You were on your way to work and you got in a car accident. You’ve been in a coma for three weeks."

What? Are you my doctor? If you’re my doctor, then why are you crying? What’s going on?

Why are you crying?
I was about to make my bed until I opened the window, and this came to my head. It's the first thing I've written in a while and I think it's okay.
The tears
are words not pronounced,
rivers of joy
or floods of pain,
drops of tenderness
whispered to the eyes,
horror and compassion
that cannot keep silent.
The mind
speaks with the mouth,
the heart
with the tears.

9.10.'14
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