words by dominic riccitello

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  • Mar 20, 2015

    There’s something really bittersweet about the end and how we appreciate the fine moments that we had.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Mar 18, 2015

    depth of the crevice
    walls of diamonds
    a glistening
    with a mind too impetuous

    speed of the lobes
    shoulders to knees
    our touch, two beings
    beauty of gravity

    eyes like doves
    presence of a god
    the love, to live
    the thoughts that lie beneath

    arms of warmth
    heart of gold
    from brain to body
    the love was simply
    otherworldly

    brain to body
    words by dominic riccitello
  • Mar 18, 2015

    I’m not one to make you wait, not one to make you cry; and it’s never a game, but I’m always the first to die.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Mar 17, 2015

    It’s funny because I fell so abruptly as he left rather quietly. It gave me no chance to breathe, feel or understand where he was coming from. He was just gone and I was just gone.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Mar 16, 2015

    For you have only had love for yourself and have yet to deal the gift of loving another more than yourself.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Mar 14, 2015

    here we were
    108°
    atop a mountain
    shouting lovely things
    beside crying trees
    all the things
    you could never
    weren’t forever
    but the love distilled
    and the quaint wild air
    we were the ground
    how dirt becomes
    the way it turns and slides
    creates and builds
    i was too
    while you were you
    how the sky turned blue
    and everything you touched
    followed suit

    mudslide
    words by dominic riccitello
  • Mar 14, 2015

    I recall the pain like I remember your face and I connect your face with butterflies and rain. The disdain you had towards life and what I thought it meant to be your guy.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Mar 13, 2015

    We were simply only ever my vulnerability.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Mar 12, 2015

    I was screaming infidelities, but by infidelity I meant unfaithfulness to myself in regards to my desire for someone to love me.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Mar 11, 2015

    blackest of roses
    twined
    with the cleanest of air
    the way he stood
    in solitude
    right there

    lonely
    words by dominic riccitello
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