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Little LincolnLittle Lego Lincoln,
top hat tall and unyielding,
stands beneath a painted apple tree
with a brick scroll
clenched in his hand.
A pair of white-out fangs
mar his stick-figure mouth,
the remnants of a teenage girl's obsession
with things that bite.
He watches the town around him
rebuild at the drop of a hat
and envies a world where dreams
are easy to share
and even easier to reach.
Winter BonsaiWind-chipped fingers
shape copper wire into bonsai trees
as snowflake fairies pirouette
around her gold-tinsel hair,
a plumage of daisies
sweeping across chiseled cheekbones
before falling back into ice.
Imagining Summer stroking her skin
with his breathing flower tattoos
and his crawling ivy-vine freckles,
Winter bends another tiny, timeless branch
and wonders what it might feel like
to have somebody melt for her
for a change.
Pastel MountainsA pastel sunrise
stretches over Heart Mountain
reflected across fresh snow;
a rainbow trapped
in a mirror of dew.
Cloud MasqueradesPatchwork cloud portraits
overlay an after-storm sky,
blue and gray veils
playing it safe
and hiding suspicious eyes.
Pulling the mask
from broad cheekbones,
she blots the last of her tears
and looks down on the world
wearing her heart on her sleeve,
pondering how it is
something so good at standing out
can still feel alone in a crowd.
Five Rooms--C.There's a hiss in the way you inhale the lies I'm trying to feed you as I lay beside you in the dark. "This was nothing, nothing, nothing," but we both know the distant rumbling are the bricks we tore down around each other grating back into their places and honey, let's be honest, okay? If this was nothing, we wouldn't keep coming back for more. If this was nothing, the walls of five motel rooms would have no stories to share.
Her eyes are a lion's in the dark, eager and cunning and eying my sweat with an intoxicating hunger that keeps me swimming across the tundra to meet her in the darkest places. We navigate this concrete jungle that is both home and prison, breaking glass against grating brick and forging fire from our ashes. “This is nothing, nothing, nothing,” but we both know that pain can be the greatest antagonist.
There's a scab peeling off the wounds of my words and I know if I dig a little deeper, if I snarl a little louder, if I push you just a little farther
Absent WordsIn no-man's land, I try to herd--
like cattle--all my absent words,
but my pen has a way
of being led astray--
stories caught on the wings of birds.
Summer's VicesWatching the ripples
cast from long, freckled toes
reflect and refract
off honeycomb scales,
Summer paints ribbons
of ivy and starlings
across her fingernails
in clinging moss.
Rose petals and mother of pearl
cascade through the tangles
of her sun-kissed hair
as she watches the koi
around her bony ankles,
what vices they will bring
to the season
when they replace her.
Jean Pocket WeaponsYou hoard your emotions like weapons
in the pockets of your jeans,
pulling them out and dusting them off
when it suits you, when it's convenient,
when you're trapped between a rock
and a hard decision and you need
an excuse to run...but I wonder if you realize
you're only running from yourself.
Autumnal HeartShe smells of dry earth
and late-season rains,
dust clouding her sun-starved skin;
rusting autumn around the edges,
peek from strands
of a silver-twinged braid
as she splays dirt-smeared fingers
in a lake
and watches the water
still, pivot, freeze--
the heart of her trapped
beneath the creaking breaths
of summer dying.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More