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Brianna Oct 2014
I sometimes pretend you were just a vision-- something I made up to keep me happy.

But I remember it all so vividly-- your red pants, that grey shirt, the cologne you wear and you leaning on the wall waiting for me.

Did you move around a lot trying to find the "right" way to stand on the wall? Did you get nervous when I arrived? Did you feel the pressure I felt?

I'll never forget the humidity and the way I stared at you when I first saw you again.

I'll never forge the butterflies when I tried to smile but frowned instead. I'll never forget the way you asked how my trip was and I replied awkwardly how I needed coffee.

I'll never forget the way I looked at you... Knowing we had only one week and then it would be over.

And I'll never forget how by the end of the week I lost myself completely... And let every wall I ever built fall down for you.


you kissed me goodbye... And meant it.
Steven Fortune May 2014
I have been studying how I may compare
This prison where I live unto the world;
And for because the world is populous,
And here is not a creature but myself,
I cannot do it.  Yet I'll hammer it out.*
             -Shakespeare, Richard II, Act V.I

The world I fathom rhetorically orbits
around the whirr of a dust-peppered
triad of turbine limbs
inbreeding infinitely as electricity's
treaty permits
into a smorgasbord whirl of
processed plastic white

A remedial sun I compose
to counter outside's oven bulb
in the world I do not fathom

Heat's ****** of humidity
is not lost on me
with no canonized sense
even to establish it with

And even my own remedial sun
restricts a reality-knighting touch
with its ozone cage pried open
in unseen haste - a victim
of college's fugitive waltz
encased in the jazz fusion dance hall
of the world I cannot fathom

Is there a dual left-footed
interpretive dance of a carbon dimension
outside of reality's steaming kitchen
to fathom me?
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— The End —