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If we had a distancei.
If we had a distance to cross,
an ocean of miles and worries,
there would be boats to set bobbing
on seas made of glass.
The waters would calm,
on a day where the sun
licked every pore clean,
and banished illusions.
Bare flesh and paper limbs,
we'd navigate by the stars,
aiming for an island we found
in the dust of old men's hearts.
We'd have our flags flowing proudly,
with the cloth sunstained and faded,
in the colors we chose
to speak to the wind.
As it is, we're tucked in
closer than ever,
living our nights,
and our nightmares together.
If there were some distance,
we'd have plans and nuances,
and with desperate planning,
we'd murder our "never's".
If we had a tangle of roads
stretching between us,
we'd pick some point on the map
and divvy up miles.
We're craving a journey
with sphagetti-like routes,
with mishaps and missed exits
to burn fuel and scant money.
We're too tight here, together
pressed down, like small petals
crushed in the pages
of a never used atlas.
The light fell in patternsThe light fell in patterns on your skin,
dancing on you, delighting in you,
in your sanctuary of a tree guarded grove
where I found you, too.
The soles of your feet kissed the dirt,
minding the twigs and missing every trap,
all the biting brambles and twisted old roots,
that were sent to distract you.
You pointed at the leaves, as I grumbled
that the rain ran down them to muddy our haven.
Branches wove together above us, and shook together
in any breeze, a parallel I drew to describe us.
You pulled me into your arms, into
your bed and heart and world,
everything smelled and sang of you,
every moment was a piece of you.
We lingered in our love, fearful
that if we were to rush, to seize it all at once
we’d watch it die so quickly,
leaving love-born scratches in the dust.
When our woods gave way to fields and houses
you soothed my fears, and led me away
to nameless graves and lover’s tombs
each sealed within a page.
Words hid, like we did, all hidden and daring-
we tucked ours
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More