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Hand me a cigarette
And tell me another
Beautiful lie before
The sundown
What a lovely scene...
 Aug 13 LM
Tymeri Hinkley
The moon calls to me tonight—
I cannot resist her charms.
I slip beyond the confines of my room
To let the evening soak into my soul.

A full moon spills her silver light,
Darkness braided with her glow.
Rocky earth crunches beneath my feet,
Each step alive with sound and scent.

The high desert hums its song:
Stars glimmer, coyotes cry.
A noisy stillness fills the air,
As daylight’s brightness fills the sky.

My heaven is green grass,
And scent of sagebrush and hay.
I belong in this moonlit nirvana,
Where constellations burn like fire.
 Aug 13 LM
Rastislav
She sat alone, beside the door
not asking much, not asking more.

She didn’t wait for steps to fall
but for a glance.
No cry. Just call.

. . .

She wasn’t silent out of fear,
nor lost for words that wouldn’t clear.

She simply held that hush so deep
your broken soul
could rest, could sleep.

. . .

When you were cruel, she did not shake.
When you were low, she’d bend, not break.

She breathed like grass, a quiet thing,
forgave it all, just with a blink.

. . .

You could have left.
Or screamed. Or lied.
Or tossed your anger off with pride.

She knew it all.
She didn’t plead.
She breathed, just breathed
like hope, like need.

. . .

And if you left and never came
past morning’s hush, beyond the flame

she still would sit…
no names, no cries…
and watch the night
as if
it shines.
Up to the trees I go,
Further north where fresh water flows.
Travel preparations with my heart aching,
Home is where I’m free,
Left alone just to be.
Not in this gloomy place,
Not within this heat wave.
Like a pioneer,
I pack my bags,
Leaving behind the places I know,
In search of the places,
Where I’ll grow.
I’m on the road, making my way up to the mountains. Travel is good for the soul, you shouldn’t dwell in the same places for too long.
 Aug 6 LM
Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.
 Aug 6 LM
Meera
Do you remember our last meeting?
The last time we saw each other before separating our ways
The last time you looked deep into my eyes
The last time I held your hand
The last time I listened to your heart beats and breaths
The last time I brushed your hairs with my fingers
The last time I saw you smile
The last time you saw me cry
The last time I felt the warmth of your arms around me
And the last time we were so close that there wasn't enough space for air to pass through.
Do you still remember anything ?
Cause I have forgotten nothing
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