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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
March 8, 2013
Davao by ~MariaTala is for the love-stricken in all of us, excited to see their partner.
Featured by Nichrysalis
Literature Text
the equatorial sun
soft-etched on my skin,
there, del sur
islands away
the tan lines of shallow-bathing
in your eyes
there is so much time between
you
and
I
you spoil me, featherbreath
do i dare commit my memory
into dreams?
i laugh upon waking,
i did not realize--
i run when i go to you
soft-etched on my skin,
there, del sur
islands away
the tan lines of shallow-bathing
in your eyes
there is so much time between
you
and
I
you spoil me, featherbreath
do i dare commit my memory
into dreams?
i laugh upon waking,
i did not realize--
i run when i go to you
Literature
Eurydice
His voice enveloped me, and I became
Myself again--I heard it in the song:
A mordent on a note he held too long;
A stutter in his voice. I heard my name
In these and felt a happiness the same
As when I saw him first. Oh, I had longed
To hear him sing again, but this last song--
It was so beautiful. And it remains
The best of human works, though none shall hear
Its sorrowed notes; the lyre's meand'ring tune
Through vast arpeggios and Death's expanse
Except the dead. It will not disappear
'Till all the world's destroyed, and hell's exhumed--
Such music must be worth a backwards glance.
Literature
Charlie
We're all just kids playing a part. That's what it boils down to.
I'm the kid who gets to play hitman today. The other kids, they're playing guard. Hands in their pockets, feeling up their guns. Makes them feel big. Calms them down. A security blanket in a holster.
That's what it boils down to. Dressing for the part, having the right props. If you're running around in your street clothes, you're a thug, a hood, a gangster. You put on a ninety-dollar suit you picked up at Ross, and all the sudden you're a mobster, a wiseguy, paisano.
You're still just playing Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians, Thugs and Mafiosi.
Rule of three.
Literature
carousel
we laughed like children high on m&ms,
danced like we were carousel horses,
and jump-roped our way through obstacle courses.
I saved our footsteps in mason jars,
in case we ever needed to follow yellow brick roads
to get home.
home was an illusion:
honesty without truth,
apologies without forgiveness,
I kept home sandwiched between
"never" and "have to."
caroline, they'd say. caroline,
stop being such a dreamer. stop taking
us for granted.
I packed every apology possible
into my breath, left runaway plans lingering
in the silence between family.
when I found you dancing in the street,
I listened for merry-go-round music.
I
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
the south
edited 6.21.2014
edited 6.21.2014
© 2012 - 2024 MariaTala
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still love this!