The fact that neither of us made sense was the beauty of it.
February 2017
-
Read more: untitled post 454
i know the words i said too soon
how the owls glide in the mist of the moon
we sung of birds in the night
two wine, three wine, bottles on the ground
kitchen’s a disaster, the twisted memories of broken glasses
i used to paint his face in technicolor
but oceans fade and tides pull
fists in the air and walls without ladders
i touch his face
have you ever felt a body, but it took you to another place
to dance in the ocean of his being
tangled in vain i couldn’t see
took a pill to breathe, alcohol became suddenly
toxins take our youth
we become blind in the eyes of our love
parallelograms and poetry never quite mix
you and i never made sensea faculty by which the body perceives an external stimulus
words by dominic riccitello -
Read more: untitled post 455
We broke up. I cried. Then I didn’t. Months pass. I cried again. Then I didn’t. And that was the end of it. You might not get over it, but eventually you move past it.
-
Read more: untitled post 456
we slumber in sadness
thoughts without view
where the water wades with a scent
we used to exude
i call your name
yet the echo fades
to dream in sadness
thoughts i made
from here to hey
drunken thoughts
holding hands without a grip
things said which couldn’t flow
we swim in rapids
but die in the deep
i said i’d never let go
how boats become lost at sea -
Read more: untitled post 457
to write without words
he sips his pinot noir
i rock back and to
when daze sought us too
to bask in roses
with guarded thorns
i brush against his legs
things he loved
but guards descend
we transcend
thorns begin to rip
to drown in a blood bath
how we enticed our mazes
yesterday killed to come
before we had hands to hold
i kissed your thigh
you caressed my neck
we bit with solid edges
holding our senses
expressing without pages
water under the bridge
we danced with imperfectiondancing under bridges
words by dominic riccitello -
Read more: untitled post 458
I couldn’t write about him and that scared me. It scared me because it made me question the reality of it. And if it’s real, was everything I’ve ever written subconsciously about him?
-
Read more: untitled post 459
to kiss a tongue in a deathly hour
felt the palms of your trees
how they felt like flowers
wake in a tune, your radio plays
i spoke of always, you said ever
drunken dances and sour edges
bridges which led us nowhere
hallways with empty kisses
from submissive to explicit to pessimistic
i said twisted, you said crazy
tattoos on my thighs
lies which patronize the hollow of my being
i see you in dreams
from time to time
we hold our peace like we held our lemons
from heaven to hell
a death you couldn’t miss
we road the waves into the abyss
through sunken ships
rapids which caved us
to strand us
when there was nothing but usconcave
words by dominic riccitello -
Read more: untitled post 460
you were the light
i was the devil
we became twined
in nothing but
hell -
Read more: untitled post 461
They say what you can’t see can’t hurt you, but why does it hurt when I can’t see you?
