[x]

softenedthe sky whispers,
ribbons of crystalline quiet,
same shade as the angel dust
you shivered every time we were
alone.

in the darkness, we were
sorry birds searching for
open dawns. you, the
swan, me, the
raven,
black as night and
just as hopeful.

and there were poems
written in your skin, universes
blooming in your hands; your eyes
were a December sunrise saving me
from any sleep.

I’ve decided that
people are a composition of
all their greatest memories—and you,
you were always the most
beautiful piece of
me.

Mirror, Mirror on the wallMirror, mirror on the wall.
Forgive my vandalism.
Let not a thousand curses fall.

She needed to stop catching colds from smiling at her reflection in pouring rain.
While needing me to be more than her favorite tv show on black screens.
So I came to her, the one she considers the most charming of them all.

And I know it’s bad luck to break a mirror.
Yet these two souls unluckily found each other.
So the glass shall do nothing more than continue to fall.

But mirror, mirror on the wall.
If I must die young,
Tell her that she’s the fairest of them all.

LongingIt is far too lascivious and cruel,
the way the glint in
your unnerving stare commands me to come hither
yet your lips
keep pulsing with isolated, rigid greetings
like you were pushed to a dare of some sort.
But still, I know better
by the sometimes welling that form at
the corners of your eyes
- which you try your best to hide, and
by your ocean-deep sighs that
your longing goes past your matting lashes
and mascara tinted tears.

It is never easy, hiding
everything I desire inside of little words
like "Hello" and "Goodbye" when
all I really want to do is let it out,
set it free, and
chain myself to your everything
with words I shouldn't spea

LongingIt is far too lascivious and cruel,
the way the glint in
your unnerving stare commands me to come hither
yet your lips
keep pulsing with isolated, rigid greetings
like you were pushed to a dare of some sort.
But still, I know better
by the sometimes welling that form at
the corners of your eyes
- which you try your best to hide, and
by your ocean-deep sighs that
your longing goes past your matting lashes
and mascara tinted tears.

It is never easy, hiding
everything I desire inside of little words
like "Hello" and "Goodbye" when
all I really want to do is let it out,
set it free, and
chain myself to your everything
with words I shouldn't spea

Overcooked Moments of AffectionSometimes the moments could be too crispy,
Other times they could taste like salt water.
But I’ll always devour them like a starved child.

Because the recipe book in your mind is filled with delicacies.
And every chief cooks up at least one disaster in their life time.
But mostly because I know moments such as these are scarier than food.

So with a little imagination I’ll gobble every burnt platter.
Stuffing myself until I’m a stuffed animal,
And plumber than the turkey at our next romantic dinner.

AirI want to lose myself
in an illogical need
for love.

I want to remember
to forget
how to breathe.

What is Air
if not you?

~I shall never stop loving thee~My powdered lips shall kiss thee through this ever lasting love
your beauty intensifies my satisfaction
O, tis' be you my darling, my one and sweet caressed heart
Shoot a bullet through my skull, tis' only the most dainty way I show thou love for thee.

Thy heart shall never stop beating for thee
He, be this time were I shall daunt my passion for thee.
so soft and abase
how I feel sorry for thee
trapped by endless monsoons of terror
let me hold thee and love you endlessly

Will thy be my lover?
Be my daunty heart?
If thy say Ye, then I eternal happiness shall last forever

Be thy love and I shall take care of thee forever
Never leave thy, The

Warm BodiesNothing around but air to pierce the quietness that surrounds the grace of these lustful souls,

Clouding together with interchanging hearts going along with the musing beats, tones of which

Knock the desolate sounds of blood, coming together sliding back and forth like oozing drips of

Honey such a pastoral scene hidden beneath the charm of the shadows, from which love abides

Like a melody composed of two lovers, only now to see lights fading away, with feelings going far

Away with such perception, what deviant ways perceive as to disregard, and leave only now to

Sleep to dream…..

Visible SpectrumYou reminded me
of a stained-glass window
that sits perched on its wall
beneath my stairs at home.

Daylight doesn't measure its colors,
it only scatters them down
on the hardwood floor
when the sun breaches the
suburban canopy.

And daylight didn't measure you,
no,
I saw you and all I could think on
were your mosaic eyes,
the spectrum of your blush;
that they were solid
and real
and more than patterned light.

I cover stained glass with my hands
and colors vanish.
I cover you with myself
and you are vibrant.

The Mosaic and The Wanderer.Yes this whole has been beaten down, broken now in decrepitude.
Scattered, thrown here or there by wanders kicking loose pebbles.
A stranger strolls and sees a stone to keep for his own collection.
He didn't hear the rubble cry as another part of them is stolen.

That was the day the sky turn gray with a storm of unknown magnitude.
Flooding rain washed what pieces remained into a shallow puddle.
In sediment they settled, put back together by this muddy concoction.
As the day exsiccates a mosaic is made and a soul has been awakened.
A woman rises from the sand to search for a man, and the part of her he's taken.

He loves to stroll and walk alone, his thought always so bestrewed.
Wander, meander where time doesn't matter. He's tired of a constant dribble.
Remembering the trinket he reaches in his pocket, and is startled with a pulsing motion.
Pulling out hi

TnM: Me amas real o no?Era un soleado día en Daneville, nuestra pelirroja favorita aun dormía plácidamente –u-
Isabella: Marie ya levántate
Marie: 5 minutos más *se tapa la cabeza con la almohada*
Isabella: ¬¬ Marie
Marie: bien bien*se levanta y se empieza a listar*
Isabella: bueno te veo abajo *se va*
Marie: lalalala oliendo las lindas rosas *cambiándose*
OoOoOoOoOoOo DEPUES DE CANTAR Y ALISTARSE OoOoOo
Marie: *se va a las escaleras*
¿??: Te quedaste hablando con jazz toda la noche de nuevo?
Marie: bueno podría decirs-..Papa?!! Como lo sabes?
Phineas: tengo contactos
Marie: o metiste grabadora

RozeAm văzut niște roze întunecate, cu spini,
Le-am atins și m-am rănit,
și am mers mai departe...
Am văzut niște roze de un roșu aprins, cu spini,
Le-am atins și m-am rănit,
și am mers mai departe...
Am văzut niște roze albe, fără spini,
și am trecut mai departe...

There Is A PlaceTaste my lips let them consume my lust
There is no one so important than you
Maybe it silly but I believe in second chances
I know the riddles of your heart, the way to keep you smiling
There is a place for us, a place where no others have found with you
There is a door and the sign says “True”
I've tried to tell you love exist beyond me
I know its hard to believe, I've seen you happy
I touched you like no other has
I have looked the other way when you found a bit of happiness
I walked on by with a hint of uncertainty
Can't you see the truth in what I say, seeing our certainty?
There no place for us in the hearts of others
When th

Down The Rabbit HoleHere and now I would flock to you in a heartbeat.
One day though, you’re worried I may fly away instead of to your rescue.
So clip my wings and drop me down the rabbit hole.

Put my loyalty to the ultimate test.
Just don’t let the dreadful hole land in Alice’s Wonderland.
Instead, drop me in the dungeon with in your mind.

Leave the dungeon’s exist doors slammed shut
But make the keys worst hiders than I am a seeker
While allowing me the choice of you or my freedom.

Display all your secrets as a piece of loot.
While lacing the good in riddles for me to solve,
And drenching the dark in booby traps for me to disarm.

Le

Waiting for JuneIt is almost the time to fall in love again
down the flowing grace along the stream that follows the lights
towards the dissolution in the sea of newborn shapes
shapes begotten of this season once more:

Silhouettes of young lovers against the bridge in the early fog before the dawn
the softly spreading colour against the world willing to shed the gray
the upturned corners of the mouth by the roses that will blossom soon

You can sense the liberation
feel the weightlessness of breathing as the heavy air has passed
every step has tenderness and meaning
every night is soft and boundless
and every time the breeze calls us to dance,
we fall in

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should be the pill
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shoud be the faith
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A night of SundaysI walk these walls and halls.
Ever to the left side, to make
room, should you choose to come along.
I walk these walls and halls
for the most part in solitude.

I walk these walls and halls.
Watching as you run off to this
or that or e'en sometimes them both.
I walk these walls and halls
in case you might choose to see me.

I walk these walls and halls,
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consort to an unfulfilled kiss.
I walk these walls an halls
as a legend, a meme, abstract.

I walk these walls and halls
because I have sworn a patience
that surpasses understanding.
I walk these walls and halls
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step on a crackstep on a crack and break your mother's back.

can't imagine my mother with a broken back.
and I've probably, inadvertently, stepped on
more than a few cracks in the sidewalk,
considering all the places I have laid leather.

my mom had polio when she was little.
she still walks with a limp, her foot
corkscrewing as she walks. she doesn't walk
as much as she used to. at 78, you don't.

step on a crack and break your mother's back.

she's from a generation where corporal punishment
was considered okay. more than one wooden spoon
or yardstick met an end across my backside
or that of my brothers or sister. thwack!

she has a temper.

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White Sunday 63: patience II

by *williamfdevault, Sep 17, 2010, 8:58:58 AM
Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

my love

you asked me to wait

and I shall.

for love is not a word to me.
it is a place where things touch
more than the consecration of flesh
more than the hydraulic mesh
of hips and lips in eclipse.

it is a place where words signify truth
and cold iron and sharp rocks
and fantasies and memories
are not to be underestimated.

you will understand one day
more than you do now
about so many things.

I will not pick you out
from between my teeth in pink scraps
with my lesbian-short fingernails.

I will not write platitudes
while all the while my soul
lays in a black marble tub, wrists slit.

I will celebrate the apple harvest
if not this year, then next or next,
I am, you have said, patient and kind.

I will pace myself on this road
to yet another Damascus, knowing Rome
awaits all true evangelists. Even me.

I will lay in the chair and await you,
promises kept in eventuality
are not lies and need no regrets.

you asked me to wait

and I shall.

my love.

William F. Devault. all rights reserved.

White Sunday 63: patience IIby *williamfdevault

Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

©2010-2013 *williamfdevault

To White Sunday, my eternal Sunday Girl. Tides ebb and flow, but I am the Pillars of Heracles.

~sanjalydia Sep 19, 2010 Professional Photographer

you will understand one day
more than you do now
about so many things.

so lovely

Reply

*williamfdevault Sep 19, 2010 Professional Writer

Thank you.

Reply

~ladydemoniess Sep 17, 2010 Hobbyist General Artist

"with my lesbian-short fingernails"... That line made me giggle.

Reply

*williamfdevault Sep 17, 2010 Professional Writer

I used to be married to a bisexual who taught me that all real lesbians keep their fingernails short or tidy, for obvious reasons.

Reply

~ladydemoniess Sep 17, 2010 Hobbyist General Artist

ah... I still like that line

Reply

*williamfdevault Sep 17, 2010 Professional Writer

it's a good line.

Reply

~ladydemoniess Sep 18, 2010 Hobbyist General Artist

It is indeed

Reply

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