i bruise me easily with grace

throw the next gesture
chant by night
for our new messy dream
brush above pencil figures
laugh at me and my monkey impression
pop!  goes my pop up ballet
an original masterpiece
of glorious flame
colored in wild blue
covered me in
mad
drips of color covered glow

you can light or shadow
blend or blur
take or make the fold
it’s all up to you
you chooooose
me
or
ooze me
all over city street
and concrete static
use me
with each passing face
jumping beds and bones
lose me
somewhere
without a trace
between the sheets
of strangers
i
bruise me
easily
…with grace
refrain
recall
it means everything to me
and nothing at all

recline to form
use me down to nothing
as i build- to pieces
not built -to last
i rewind  -in movement
double fast
you move right through me
with your mind
and print me out in copies
with your call

paint me open
and pour me in
nothing
shut out
nothing
but the absolute feel
made to steal
made for show
package me up
nice and pretty
finish me off
with a bow
i am flesh candy
frantic and absurd
almost never together
with you
fly me off to the next
dream
i go
amuse me less
but my monkey more

 

hydrogen carbon and rust

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soup hydrogen soup carbon
truths scratched from the dirt
rusting trucks
die with years
in dry grass below
and with vultures above
in waiting
hungry like the old
hungry like the forgotten
waiting in line
for the dead
to come
waiting
like we wait
to die
-kyoko cole 2013

take your dirty hands off my mirror

sun shines

summer comes

again

it’s been 3 years

and i don’t feel a thing

like i should

like i could

take that thought

out of mind

and then we will all be fine

some day

some day

they say

after this

we will be fine

again

when we return

the sun sets

and day is done

like the body

of everyone

like the sun

will someday die

but you and i

and the moon

are never alone

are forever alive

going home

going home

we will know

when we get home

 

 

-Kyoko Cole 2013

don't steal my drink

 

Sepia-Tone Dusk in an Angels Garden On a Day Like Today

The soft moss swimming;
It is the dying spirit.
Desiring, I hide.

Pink shore, serene breeze.
The flat, upright sparkle shines.
Lost moon, velvet spirit.

Walk, swim. With blunt leaves
Wither, decline. With sharp flames
Write, fade: fluttering.
Purple, tender, falling,
Your eyes sits. A mermaid arises,
Declining, shining, I fall

deep within and go far away…

-kyoko cole 2013

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-kyoko cole 2013

you

you’re my friend… but

i’m starting to fall for you…

hard.

and i hate it

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the game

with a machete

Escape is impossible.

Fear has a new name

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