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Literature Text
you will be drawing circles in the sand when he finds you.
'why are you bothering to draw in the sand?' he'll ask. 'the waves will only wash your circles away.'
you'll finish the circle by writing love in the center, then you'll stand up to answer him, hair in your eyes from the wind and sand on your face.
'because maybe it won't get washed away,' you'll say. 'isn't it a chance worth taking?'
and instead of laughing at you like you expected, he'll smile. 'yes,' he'll say. 'oh, yes.'
--
you will be weak with lack of sleep, drowsy and stumbling, and he'll catch you before you run into the wall.
'go away,' you'll tell him. 'just go away.'
'no,' i don't think i will,' he'll say. 'want me to tell you a secret about you?'
'no,' you'll murmur bitterly, but that won't stop him.
'see, you have this dark view of love and hearts,' he'll say. 'for one, you don't believe in love, or the fairytale happily ever after kind. because it always gets washed away, doesn't it? that's how you see it. but, somehow, you still believe it's a chance worth taking.'
you'll stare at him, amazed thatt he figured out this part of you. but he's not finished, not yet.
'and for two, you hate hearts. you hate how they break,' he'll say. 'you think everyone's heart has a do not disturb sign on it, and you have no idea how to take it off.'
'you're wrong,' you'll say, still somewhat shocked.
'am i?' he'll ask.
'yes,' you'll reply. 'i don't hate hearts. i just wish someone would take that sign off of mine, and then off of theirs.'
he'll smile. 'give me a chance, and i think i can do that.'
--
you'll have your first kiss. it will be in winter, under the falling snowflakes and on that bridge over the frozen river.
he'll catch a snowflake in his hand. 'do you want it?' he'll ask.
you'll shake your head, lost in thought.
you'll think that maybe, like falling snowflakes and winter and drawings in the sand, this will get washed away; end.
but maybe, just maybe, it won't.
'why are you bothering to draw in the sand?' he'll ask. 'the waves will only wash your circles away.'
you'll finish the circle by writing love in the center, then you'll stand up to answer him, hair in your eyes from the wind and sand on your face.
'because maybe it won't get washed away,' you'll say. 'isn't it a chance worth taking?'
and instead of laughing at you like you expected, he'll smile. 'yes,' he'll say. 'oh, yes.'
--
you will be weak with lack of sleep, drowsy and stumbling, and he'll catch you before you run into the wall.
'go away,' you'll tell him. 'just go away.'
'no,' i don't think i will,' he'll say. 'want me to tell you a secret about you?'
'no,' you'll murmur bitterly, but that won't stop him.
'see, you have this dark view of love and hearts,' he'll say. 'for one, you don't believe in love, or the fairytale happily ever after kind. because it always gets washed away, doesn't it? that's how you see it. but, somehow, you still believe it's a chance worth taking.'
you'll stare at him, amazed thatt he figured out this part of you. but he's not finished, not yet.
'and for two, you hate hearts. you hate how they break,' he'll say. 'you think everyone's heart has a do not disturb sign on it, and you have no idea how to take it off.'
'you're wrong,' you'll say, still somewhat shocked.
'am i?' he'll ask.
'yes,' you'll reply. 'i don't hate hearts. i just wish someone would take that sign off of mine, and then off of theirs.'
he'll smile. 'give me a chance, and i think i can do that.'
--
you'll have your first kiss. it will be in winter, under the falling snowflakes and on that bridge over the frozen river.
he'll catch a snowflake in his hand. 'do you want it?' he'll ask.
you'll shake your head, lost in thought.
you'll think that maybe, like falling snowflakes and winter and drawings in the sand, this will get washed away; end.
but maybe, just maybe, it won't.
Literature
opposite's day - collab.
i. today i ignored the dismal beating
in my chest [it held me closer than
you ever did] and chased after you
like a lopsided puppy,
watching your skylit legs sink into
shin-deep puddles with indefinable
bottoms. i looked as you left me
miles behind as i shouted
nonsensical wishes and
honeycombed thoughts to you.
[let's drop anchor and stop
this off-course ship with
a handful of windswept lies.]
ii. your eyes are like my mirror -
reflective, deflective, and unforgiving.
[the only way you'll speak to me
is without words.]
one of these days i will write
'ugly ugly ugly' on my forehead
so that on opposite's day,
those baby blu
Literature
this april
The moonlight falls through squinting blinds, bowing softly to hug the arc of his naked body. The blankets are strewn about his toes as a girl, no more than sixteen, lays wide-eyed and warm-bodied beside him.
She silently watches the dreams come and go beneath his eyelids, she quietly feels his chest rise, rise then fall and she listens to the heavy breathing that accompanies it. Beautiful breathing, she thinks, tracing generous lips with fingertips.
The air is cool but she is alight.
Everything in this room bathes in blue shade. She watches the alarm clock beside the bed, numbers coming and going out of fashion before her eyes.
Literature
sunday thoughts
you are glowbracelets
and fireflies and oatmeal raisin cookies.
you are thunderstorms
and comic books and afternoons on the bleachers.
you are constellations
and crinkled denim and nights spent on the park bridge.
you are the best thing
i could ever hope for and i love you more than should be allowed.
Suggested Collections
this is ~desear's christmas present, because she's an amazing person and wonderful friend.
[she told me she wanted something hopeful.]
i hope she likes it.
p.s. uhm, this feels weird to say.
but please don't be afraid to comment. i love reading all of your opinions, and i like getting to know my watchers/readers.
i promise i won't bite. much.
[she told me she wanted something hopeful.]
i hope she likes it.
p.s. uhm, this feels weird to say.
but please don't be afraid to comment. i love reading all of your opinions, and i like getting to know my watchers/readers.
i promise i won't bite. much.
© 2008 - 2024 Amertie
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love this.