words by dominic riccitello

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  • Mar 3, 2024

    have you ever felt a moment for more than it was
    dangling in truth before it’s gone
    wading in a rapid before it pulls too hard

    i used to touch lips to feel the depth of others
    to taste the skin of the sweat which lead to others
    i dangle in thought from a rope i hold
    with legs crossed and a neck far too long

    the ground pulses from barren tips
    somewhat like the feeling of this
    temptation builds to bring forth sin
    the taste of more
    a taste of you

    and the navy blue hue of the
    mountains in the distance
    which remind me of songs in motions
    moments in rotation
    in the back of my mind
    like spinning wheels
    previews of memories which burn
    like slow moving moments
    twined in the back of–

    some things are better left unfinished
    words by dominic riccitello

  • Dec 27, 2023

    the power
    it drips
    a melancholy twist
    i feel so heavenly
    in a place
    where
    i feel sorrow

    words by dominic riccitello

  • Dec 4, 2023

    Like the ocean, we move. We do not stand still. Every moment is a tide in which we frolic. I stand before time, not to wonder but to wander.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Nov 26, 2023

    twisting on edges of my tongue
    using words you dream of
    to touch my back to feel my neck
    it feels almost like a second chance
    i’m spinning on streets of my mind
    wandering to wonder if this is right
    i seem to feel at ease
    with arms bending in ways i’ve never known
    to touch wind, to fill with sin
    we seem to like it
    there’s no wrong to right or wrong in my mind
    it feels as broken as vases against the wall
    waves against my mind
    the rapids take like alcohol bakes into what i know
    your death is what i know
    melancholy breaks in hindsight
    nostalgia takes to bend clockwise
    we dance in thought of what could be
    to long for what should have been
    relationships fold
    bats only fly in the night
    two beings under the moonlight
    to cry a thousand cries
    i die in revelations
    to kill or ache with them
    your eyes and mine
    two and the twilight
    we break in moments
    relationships have deadlines
    we sing in our time
    questioning if this is quite benight
    we read between the lines
    and decide when time is right

    yet we felt like this
    words by dominic riccitello

  • Nov 21, 2023

    i’m lying on ends of night
    twisting turns on beds that once felt nice
    kissed the hands of many like wet malachite
    and i twirl in and out
    taking photos with my mind
    i’m lying in a coma and it seems all but right
    making lefts to take edges
    words and rhythm, wealth seems to be nothing
    to tango in the thought of everything
    it’s so tempting to be on flight
    to twirl in power, but feel no emotion
    talk in tongues because they can’t feel the feeling of this
    to understand what this is
    and i take no bliss to bed
    feels like a coma, so dark in here
    and i bare the thought to speak
    rather rhyme in pure poetry
    to die like this would be my heaven
    to take the feeling of flying
    to touch the air would be something
    the clock ticks and the corners keep pulling
    have you ever fallen asleep in pure hostility?
    to break in edges
    to break beds
    to smash plates at walls
    the power to feel it all
    yet say nothing
    i dance in my emotions
    a drug to feel something
    hidden sentences in paragraphs
    the humming is all but haunting
    words said came crashing
    yet it was far too long, far too fast
    a million miles too stretched
    the oceans once spoke
    and i listened to everything

    to have everything yet nothing
    words by dominic riccitello

  • Nov 19, 2023

    i waver in question
    broken transitions
    a wild hesitation
    we echo in our moments
    longing for something worth living
    two seconds and a speak
    words, how you believe they have meaning
    we frolic in our divided rooms
    burning fumes on our desires
    the damaged conversations
    couch of chaos
    two and a beat
    words thrown at the ceiling
    i die to live in moments
    to be broken by division
    transcend in echoes worth having
    we die in time
    everyone does
    its up to you to find the beat
    it’s up to you to find meaning

    to find meaning in your living room
    words by dominic riccitello

  • Nov 6, 2023

    i turn to key
    your words against my knees
    i bend in motion
    to create ocean within thoughts
    your eyes behind mine
    i frolic between fine lines
    white noise of your cries
    echoes in thoughts transcend
    we’re wavering on bumps
    calluses of our skin
    your door awakens
    i can finally breathe
    it feels like
    just between you and i
    tangos in screams
    your neck is what killed me
    little white lies
    little fine lines
    we make movement in time
    pauses between chaos and rhyme
    we work in thought
    two and a head
    spinning in question
    to be or to break
    to think or to ache
    it was always orange
    the color of
    things that never made sense
    hell which we questioned

    i was tired
    words by dominic riccitello

  • Oct 31, 2023

    i lie before myself
    standing on fine lines and bright lights
    how i used to hold myself
    we stand at edge right
    bouncing from rhyme to rhyme
    you were my wine
    my late nights, ambien and cries
    my ambient light

    we bent in thought
    i danced without cause
    it was all but a was
    we take chances in fire
    to feel less than holy in our iron
    a deadly lighter
    man stuck between dividers
    hell bent on reflection
    we bend to go deeper
    twisting bodies to remain that all remains
    remnant in cause of
    to be one with sanity
    vibrations of you
    touch of your hand
    the alchemy of our horizon
    mountains in the distance only remind me
    shades of blue
    the patchouli, your scent
    two necks in a coil
    three sheets to the wind
    broken wine glasses at roosterfish

    we mend in moments
    little things said and we reflect
    nostalgia sometimes kills
    yet i like the pain of remembrance
    history of
    are our only memories
    to be one with or to be without
    lips on a forehead
    little things are sometimes
    everything

    roosterfish
    words by dominic riccitello

  • Oct 30, 2023

    i lie into you in a dark lit room
    hands across, tangled beside
    i hold to weep, strings you keep
    we tangle in thought beside two hearts
    to be in motion without hesitation
    i die for you in summer
    on cold nights i remember
    you beside me, us as we
    overshadowed by versions of me
    i move in motions
    lost translations
    we break the mold of what could be
    to form a reality of what is
    and i say without indecision
    to create something worth forming
    thoughts and desire
    mixed with a loss of friction
    words make sense if you let them
    your lips made sense if i had let them

    tongues twist and so do necks
    on dark summer nights
    i used to love you
    yet
    only around midnight

    tangled threads
    words by dominic riccitello

  • Oct 27, 2023

    i touch you in echoes
    in broken pieces
    to stand before myself in our darkest evening
    or break or fall or to stand in place of it all
    mirrors seem to crack
    seams begin to unravel

    i lie in our moment
    wondering if wandering goes too far
    we eclipse into memories
    i always get lost in here
    always seem to stray
    from where we should be

    and i’m skipping on cracks
    breaking bricks
    in mix of thoughts and this
    broken grips can only take you so far
    lungs without breath
    never make sense
    and i’m burning in this
    desire like tires of ’74

    thoughts occur on occasion
    persuasion is a deadly fire
    words can tango
    between fingers like follicles of your hair
    things said only fall deeper
    words can break
    things can bend
    we can extend
    yet i’ll pretend that all good things truly end

    fires of 1974
    words by dominic riccitello

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