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Talarah Shepherd Apr 2014
Caught lying down
The violet kiss
The twilight's wisp
At April's end
Resonates in lungs
Here is to calling emotions
Here in the green grass and the wind
Here is to culling memories
It's no lake, though,
It's too late, now
Chest pull, brain float
Alone in the motionless ocean, so cold
We turn black, earth and I, partners of stars caught staring up
What man made slow bleeds from the world as I sing
Wary, weightless, spinning in white flecked purple, in orbit or free fall
Orbiting free fall

I found elation, but can't find connection
I could have grown mushrooms on touchdown
I traded memory for medicine

Twilight, violet, orbit, all words I've used before and always, tightly, weave into the living picture painted years and years on all alone on reset honing torment to the self as if as if perpetuating involuntary EVA will translate to a skill that will well elevate me from the cave, the only connection, that I've built by locking up all my insides in taking pills that I fell back on for happiness and to get a rattled head settled to the ground rather stripped me of what history I lived and put my weary body in the open for all the universe's bitter energies to infinitely catch me floating lying down.
Talarah Shepherd Apr 2014
It's all I could ever do to read this
informative wall scrawl, idle
eyes hiding from peripheral refuse
scripting lines in lines in lines
the lines
engulf and then recede at light speed
inverted to white on black as the last night's
last bright stars erased over our expanse and
while I continue to dig, I await some conclusion or loop
wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait
while I continue to wait, I dig at conclusion or loophole to return
I find only my positive proof to the absolute
Did we move?
I never did

— The End —