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UnhiddenArms overturned, inside-up,
blue veins all showing
Against my tanned skin,
my forearm is almost
a shock of white.
Like that small dollop of cream
on a macchiato
you stir in
with the rest of your coffee,
I too, tried to make this paleness
more like the rest of my painted,
I left it to roast in this painful sun,
hoping the skin would darken, harden,
hide the veins on my wrist
so that no one could follow
these secret threads
running so deep
they measure time by
desires my heart floods my body with.
it is a secret in plain sight.
And under these clothes
are places I know,
and only I know
how I am
blue veins all showing
up and down the length
And how this part of me
kept tucked by my side
so hidden, and
once so different
has more in common
with the rest of
than these parts that show.
It is time,
you understand as I do,
that this part of me
drumming upit is almost 3am
when my heart pumps louder
than when i first realised that
i loved you too.
i cannot decide for myself
whether these are signs of a
or if death has come
knocking once more.
a growing girlwhat do people know of my sadness
when they are intent on claiming that they have it worse
what do people know of my pursuit of happiness
when they are convinced i am out to forget them
what do people know of my new worlds
when they are preoccupied with never leaving the old
what do people know of my love for them
when they are starstruck gazing at my love for others?
what do people know of the way i grow
when they choose not to grow with me?
what do people know of me
when they believe i am not enough of what they want me to be?
this one is nothingi return home
to listen to that familiar creak of our door
no longer attached like clockwork
to your hand wiping sleep from your eyes.
tonight i find:
one cup left on the shelf by the door,
your hurried breakfast before a busy day
one damp towel by the shower,
your quick rinse,
a harried attempt
to shed yourself
and one ring left
by the table
on your side
of the bed
i lift it,
a clean partition of air
cleaving off empty space,
i’ve claimed as my own
a promise so valuable
it’s measured by digits
both paid for
and wearing it
a promise so promising
to force ourselves
into its bind,
a bind that proved to be
that you yearned
to breathe again
try to separate
promise from digit
to give me the space
in the slow
of when we stopped
living as one
and how long it took
to leave the other
Spoilt for choiceI learnt her name listening to you breathe while you sleep.
I held it in my hands, trying to create
the face that tried to erase you. You intently hold on
to every feeling,
lost love, memory.
The pain you choose to feel daily
so that one day you could tell your whole life,
as she is sitting in front of you,
that she will never be complete
and never complete you.
Slivers of light(French version below)
The most dreadful winter of my life came.
I abandoned the idea of a blossoming future,
Fled the misery of my own motherland,
For a woman I have far too often dreamt of.
Among the singing buds of the Shinto shrine
A white plum caresses my back,
Its petals lull me, my eyes are sealed, sweet reverie,
A convent of grass
The junk of my thoughts
Send me to Amaterasu.
Blushing Lotus, enticing Lilacs, panting Azaleas,
So many mistresses!
Enough perfumes to be drunk from them.
Why, my promise, have I been waiting so long to join you?
Your hair like Sakura flowers
Your laughters sound like Shamisen.
Over the pond, a dragonfly sits down and begins to dream
Masquerading FlowersPink and white ruffles
bend and sway as
green leaves and thick stalks
waltz their blooms
through a balmy breeze.
taste-test the air,
sweeping for danger;
faux petals move
an inch at a time
high above the forest floor.
A vibrant orchid mantis
plays it cool
and takes it slow,
masquerading as a still-life
in a mobile world.
FireThe fiery warmth.
The sparks of red and orange.
Destructive, passionate, yet mesmerizing.
In an instant, it can take away a life through its destructive ways.
But yet, it can save a life with its warm embrace.
The fire spreads.
The tongues of flame licking at the fuel,
Its light throwing shadows dancing across your face.
Dangerous, yet safe.
Angry, but calm.
Harmless, until one spark lets loose.
Then the fire is free.
The master of chaos,
Hidden beneath a façade.
Wait until the veil crumbles,
To reveal its true power
Monarch MorningsMistress Monarch spreads
over white-capped mountains,
a new dawn seen through
thin antennae masks
and yellow-trimmed lace.
I have a bouquet of light
of shattered sunrays
that shun those
whose rose is not as rubicund
or whose cerulean is only slightly sea-green-stained.
Slice up the white
and imprison it in sardine cans
and push the plungers home.
But no matter how much you may try
the result is death;
for you've frayed the perfect threads
And only dried minerals and plasma
some darker version of the cosmic latte concentrated.
My heart is a prism.
All that's around me
some hibernating humming
frozen beneath the winter's coat.
I must be a time machine,
because I cannot abide this monochrome much longer.
And I've sprung forward to spring.
I'm seizing the icicles
that drip from the pallid clouds
and stripping them
and cutting them
and setting them
and in my heart they are transcribed
and flowers bloom
in the rumination of the sunlight.
a host to the aquatic fermentation
and I sip this bouquet
an imitation of the future,
In a momentary fall
Prodding the air
Crushed with the rest
Melt like your brethren
I never liked you anyway
The Blue CurseIn the fit of rage,
At the stupidity of mankind,
The rain was fiercely angry,
And in her anger,
Long ago, in the storm,
The rain cursed mankind.
The curse burned deeper
Than the brightest red,
Not bringing about senseless anger,
But instead a heartbreaking sadness
That broke them,
But left them alive.
It was blue tears,
And those blue feelings,
That ruined them.
From blue gave birth to the other colors.
For what comes from sadness but change?
So blue became sadness.
Each generation of mankind,
Turned bluer, and with each lifetime
The sky turned grayer.
Until it was but a pitch black.
And the rain was satisfied
With her work.
And the Blue Curse
Two Second ShutterSun-rimmed glasses magnified hidden eyes,
the leopard's sleek fur a mosaic of leaves.
Tempting irises with an earthly fury
shift as forest shadows dance and writhe,
breathing so close, you can't believe
the trees haven't fallen silent yet.
Sunlight spirals twinkle down to fireflies,
tiny flares lighting on quivering whiskers.
The stage is set for unrequited desire;
you pack up your camera as she stirs, languid.
Some things aren't meant to be captured
and out here, your camera is a cage.
where has the light gone?once
the moon lived on earth
till she gathered her things
and left for the sky
her back to the earth
she was whole again
but they asked
where has the light gone?
with a smile
she turns to face them
rises and waits
no one comes.
sinks slowly towards them again
as close as possible
but still no one even glances
for no one
till she slowly turns away
withdraws into herself again
and they ask,
where has the light gone?
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More