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Cristina Dean May 2015
the loneliness is stiff
in the air
of this apartment
wine and menthol
cigarettes
quiet cat
in a corner chair
Cristina Dean May 2015
although curiosity and memory bite
like small dumb fishes
in the shallow end
nibbling on your legs
picking off softened skin

one has to keep going
to reach the best part of the ocean

i need not know where you are
right now
to know i still love you deeply

i can take all you offered
and my love
resilient to the pettiness
of time
and lie on my back
the sun in my face
closed eyes
floating on the surface

the current carries me
Cristina Dean May 2015
i'm *****
been lying in the muck
these days
too long
my skin is drying with the mud
they blend as one
in my ditch
where i've asked for it all
to leave me
alone
do not disturb
but the world doesn't
care
and why should it?
the worms don't care
and crawl around me
the clouds drift above
and the sun
shines
blinds
releases

the world doesn't stop

handsome men in sunglasses walk
the urban streets
sipping on coffee, eating
pastries
the subway ticket booth
attendant
stretches back in his chair
dozes off
the waves come in and
on shore, the foam surrounds
the thin ankles
of a young girl

the wind smells like his cologne

i get up

this dirt is but another chance
to polish myself
again
now tomorrow forever
Cristina Dean May 2015
sitting on the exit step
of the roof again
it's cold again
but i've never sat here
as it hailed
like right now
ice pellets
join the spread of little grey rocks
i'm in a world of graphite sketches
monochromatic
made to express
a solitude
in existing like this
like me
like everything and everyone
for these rocks aren't a spread
but one million together
different
side by side
alone and grey and hard
Cristina Dean May 2015
sirens wailing
in the dense
long night
my thoughts as
melting ice
in a whirling
glass tumbler

you finger the hair
off my face
in a dream
i had
a lifetime
ago
Cristina Dean May 2015
i cry all the time
in bed
with you
while you're asleep
or looking away from me
(as you often are)
i cry in the middle of the satin night
awaking from
a dream
where it's daytime
and we spend
ourselves
under the sun
sitting on a park bench
drinking coffee
talking

i cry because morning
is arriving
knocking
and i'll have to go
because i can't have you
because you are the dream
and i am not yours

i cry
because loving you
is falling off a mountain
into a volcanic storm

my love is black and wet
i cry
at night
in bed with you
  May 2015 Cristina Dean
Ariel Baptista
Green grass, green trees,
Green mugs filled with green tea.
Green water over mossy rocks,
Green bikini jumping off the wooden dock.
Green door squeaks as I walk in,
The flood of green memories begins.
Green playground, new friends
Flash-forward with green nail polish as childhood ends.
Green lawn chairs around a warm fire,
Roasting marshmallows as the green-gray smoke floats higher
Those new friends, they grew old,
And we laugh as we remember never doing what we were told.
Green paint on rocks we found
It is here I realized to whom my soul is bound.
Green bugs buzzing around my head
And countless green pillows stacked on my bed.
Blue-green lips after hours in the icy-cold lake
Brought about a smile that is hard to fake.
Green apples, small and sour
Walking through the green field picking green-stemmed flowers.
There is a green stain on my heart and I grin,
For that green island under my green cabin.
You have given me memories impossible to forget
And throughout my travels, nothing has equaled your green yet.
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