Pouring out the contents

Love during Hate

Here, just to be here

as thin as air

do you see me?

In between the cracks of the kitchen

and the laundry?

the relevance of my relevance alone is obviously oblique

my slanting shapes and patterns are blending in with

this life

soon the glowing of my physical radiation

will melt like the spryness of the globe's ice

funny how I lose my words, those illuminous

creations that don't breathe without me

perhaps I don't need relevance from you, love

from the world,

from myself,

but simply from the words that flow away from the kitchen

far away from the laundry

and straight from me

© Georgina Marie

Is it love or is it a body?

Is it passion or a fire emitting sparks that are put out

by the ocean I breathe in?

I feel the air starting to die down

like the words between us.

the sand apparently sweeps down into your throat

and turns your head to the side

The gulls are beginning to stir over us

the wind pushing to be caught in the middle of us

blowing away the blossoms that used to be stationed behind my eyes

tell me why the metal tightened around my skin

is losing it's place on my body

why my nails dig into your skin and my legs open for you

but your mouth closes in front of me

this wind is taciturn, inattentive

like the seashells that cover your ears

and the seaside crows that blind your green irises

tell me where the wind will push us

© Georgina Marie

Don’t stop when a finger slowly touches your lips

In a moment where your pixels are vibrantly conjoined

and the world is deranged from war

Try to wrap your hands around thorns

And force the wounds into your hand

If you’d understand

That a moment so pure may never exist

For those of parts plagued with expiry

I think there may be a moment where flesh may mesh

With another and we may bleed our colors

Into some unknown origin

And in a most meaningful summer night

We’d be covered in cloves

Languid and together

With white shelter beads

Wrapped around her

Promises of hands and hearts and miraculously

We’d be made whole again

To go through soul trading

And if only the entire world would make these kind of moments perpetual

There’d be no need for blood shed

© Georgina Marie