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Literature Text
- wolves come running.
their howls light the moon
and the diamonds in their eyes make wild beasts flee;
the stars glint a deadly shade of beautiful
as the trees wrap branches around lost children,
turn them into wild-bred fae.
there is magic in the air
that glints dangerously
from lupine paws, pounding into the earth.
mushroom circles rise from the dirt
and doorways open;
travelers stumble awry
and the fair folk feast well tonight.
(the wolves howl and come running,
their teeth like death snapping at moonbeams,
tails whipping shadows;
and slowly they melt into the night as the sun rises.
doorways lock and mushrooms burn -
the magic is lost again
until dusk-time comes and it is reborn,
chasing on the heels of night creatures gone mad)
Literature
self worth
Wanting for nothing
this budding rose
ready to wilt
along the stripped creek.
She's an arm's length
away, her taint some exposed
cove braving the sea
carved against the grain
of turning oceans.
Literature
Patriot
driving through town, i saw him,
through misty,
bespectacled eyes
and
he saw me too. weary,
but enduring.
amidst the haze,
he conjured the fog of factory funnels,
half-built steel ships on the docks.
Cranes once lined the sky,
now they build banks and he calls it a tragedy.
in a puff of smoke,
he steals glass towers, replacing
them with redbrick
terraces. paints in monochrome
on the pastel-blue sky.
his city has two football clubs
and he hates one of them. his wife
hates the other but they both
breathe sea air and radio waves,
he holds her hand
through weddings
and funerals.
just how he remembers it,
the wind, the cold air as you emerge
Literature
but the stars are too loud to hear them
it's a summer night again. i think
it has been a million years since i lived
through a summer night.
everything is so much louder in summer,
the windows thrown wide and the whole world
shouting, echoing up from the street,
and that screaming aching space between the window pane
and my heart, where
the late scent of lilacs
burrowed, where your hands clawed at the glass
and i let you in
with the breeze and the laughing
cinquefoil faces.
where is the dull neglectable roar,
washed away in the sweet tides of everything blooming,
new colors crying out for the stars
to fall on their petals,
and lift them up,
and let them in
to the bleak brightness
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© 2016 - 2024 Khaimin
Comments4
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This is actually really inspiring for a roleplay group I'm currently helping set up, oh my gosh~