words by dominic riccitello

Jan 29, 2017

i wrote you
ten thousand times
whispers in the air
shadows of the veil
to feel your veins
against my skin
the vain of your being
the soft sultry i once knew
to feel your hues
the neutrals of us
i wade you in black
to see if i could find you
where streetlights dim
i led us to kiss
under drunken skies
hands on your thighs
arms twist
the breeze of that night
i lust your lips
felt your teeth upon my skin
i wrote you a poem
before you even knew of
poetry

aquarium
words by dominic riccitello
Jan 28, 2017

The second they make you feel ugly is the moment you should leave.

words by dominic riccitello
Jan 27, 2017

to sit on a stoop in a dangerous daze
where everything feels avant-garde
days at oakhurst
where we fought in circles
to avoid a world of a million candles
with running wicks and endless wax
stuck in a void of black
between here and there and opaque wind
rescind or live, to fight or taste your lips
went from love you to hidden views
secrets and lies came too soon
infidelity became the room
bed and sheets wreak the hate we knew to be
how life could flash before your eyes
the way the moon hit your knees
to create shows in the eve at night
he calls your name
i said you’re mine
destiny rang but you swung from vine to vine

the hidden power believed to control what will happen in the future; fate
words by dominic riccitello
Jan 26, 2017

My deepest weren’t my most private. The ones that sat on the surface, but were too scared to be talked of – those were my most private.

words by dominic riccitello
Jan 25, 2017

Sadness sometimes becomes you and it isn’t beautiful. But eventually, you move through it. We take different levels, different strides, as we all live separate lives. Appreciate the sadness. Love the sadness, but love it because it lives with you. Demons aren’t attracted to worth. But don’t romanticize sadness. Don’t romanticize depression. Don’t romanticize mental illness. You don’t romanticize pain.

words by dominic riccitello
Jan 24, 2017

from the eyes of my seas
desire we fought to be
quakes at the palm of my hands
i grasp his neck to feel his beat
a pulse detonating
felt the tips, how they pulled
in the night i seem to twirl
around the idea of forever
wondering if this world is here nor there
imaginary or reality
we made a pact and played a puzzle
two became one in a sense of love
two became none when the puzzle was done
toxic i wreak, toxic i wreck
to hold hands in the fear of loneliness
to kiss in terror in the midst of our final hour
i held your hips, the aura of white
how shades brought your light
way traffic would stop
the wind plays a song
in the sense of right or wrong

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
words by dominic riccitello
Jan 23, 2017

I fell in love with touch. We break up, we leave, we die, but the one thing we no longer have is the ability to touch. We love, we lust, we cry, we hurt, we feel emotion, but can no longer caress our fingers against someone’s skin. We sometimes become lost in people and forget the simplicity of it. We miss their being, their soul, their voice, the conversation, thousands of emotions, but the thing I remember the most: their grasp. We could meet them in another life, a parallel universe, but after this moment, it becomes no longer. Embrace with your arms as you do with your heart. Take moments for yourself and the appreciate the squeeze, the rough, the soft, and the instant you’re in.

words by dominic riccitello
Jan 22, 2017

i quiver to your beat
hands which seem lovely
to tango or to fall
a puzzle you called god
i never said love when i hadn’t
i never lied when i should’ve
it was your hands
it was your grasp
it was the pull
i gave you my word
you gave your love
to smash, to use
and then you said never mind
when i just had given you mine

without lies
words by dominic riccitello
Jan 20, 2017

I realized at the wrong time, in the wrong life.

words by dominic riccitello
Jan 18, 2017

to trip on a tongue
i talked with a boldness
in a world where things seem heavenly
talked of angst, atop of liquor
drank heavily to control the sensations
anger drew revelations, happiness sat in a long-awaited oasis
conversation drew dark as hands left their mark
a muse i held on to, a muse who fueled the fuse
i used to feel warmth in the night
seems cold drew flight
to sing a song i once knew
holding onto vines i used to swing to
the grounds await a dance where two used to hold hands
follow where i led, leaves change to crimson red
hands used to grasp the eve of the night
how i twirled my legs to twine you tight
now i write with edges and leave words endless
as beginnings come from ends
thoughts drive themselves from previous intent
i can still hold your hands
in memories and in shams
i still speak your name
in the deepest of–

beginnings come from ends
words by dominic riccitello