justlittlemusings's avatar
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the silver face of the moon has cracked a smile and rained down shadows onto your eyelids. your black lace dress swirls around your hips as you spin, fingers outstretched, reaching for notes that hum just out of reach like butterflies, as if you could swallow them from the air. I almost think you could; I taste them on my tongue, lingering like burnt toast at 3am when we stumble home, a web of guilt spun in the gap between our bodies. I can feel it, rough against my skin, wrapping around        my bones like a chinese burn. your shoulder is soft against my lips as we fall into a sultry haze of heat,        and breath,            
your heart is fluttering between the feathers of your ribs, a skeleton butterfly with wings crumbling into dust, breaking through the cocoon of your chest. your arms stretch wide as it spreads its wings and leaps.
It's only a game
In the playground of the world the politicians are throwing stones for hopscotch tricks, hopskipjumping over chalk- corpse figures, washed away in the next storm. Outside the school gates the children are watching with warywide eyes and lines creased into foreheads that have aged too soon.
Light up the Sky
laundry day
copper-rusted bucket swinging from its wire handle with each battering blast of winter’s breath. november tears slosh, swirling around the blemished brim, teasing gravity with each swing. the sound of the sea rings in my ear – enamel-painted echoes – as i press the conch close to my cheek until its rough edges draw blood. still i can hear you, clattering in the kitchen with pails of warm water and this week’s sheets draped over your arms, tangled around your body like an exotic dress. your coral-stained lips curve into a smile. into a smile that shatters (me). the shell falls from my fingers with a yellow-spon
His Final Gift
“Made in Taiwan”: the weathered label tells the story of a mass-produced commodity bought on a cheap market stall -- unremarkable. Moulded comfortably into pocket-lining, a familiar weight is settled, patiently awaiting unconsciously dancing fingers, into which it is washed, worn, like sea-stolen shingle. And it’s warm to the touch, like a living, breathing time-capsule of a man I once knew. The dim transparency of sunken eyes that stare unblinking from sockets carved not in bone, but shadow-touched stone. His lifeless eyes bore mournfully into mine. Skin brushing sculptured rock, rough like his hands, an atlas of t
Autumnal Rain
Letter to Love
Dear You – whoever you may come to be – I'm scared of dreaming. I want to believe that you're real and that someday we'll walk the sands together with your arm looped casually 'round my waist and my head on your shoulder, like in the movies. I want to hear your laugh as sea-spray dances in the breeze.  I want so badly to believe that I'll embrace your touch, to the world a simple gesture, but you and I will still the echoing bells of my untrusting youth together. I'm scared of falling; I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, even with you. You'll reel me in with endless conversations and your butter-wouldn't-melt smile that I'll make i
strawberry between parted lips: lost purity- smearing lipstick stains
triptych - can't live...
i.  they're searching for fingerprints in my solace -- now shattered -- and your blood-stains on the carpet are a bullet to my own throbbing head. your presence lingers, your stained shadow licking up the walls by candlelight. ii. on the sidewalk we met, and the cold brick of the buildings amplified your silent greeting into the blue night. light from an upstairs window cast a pale glow over your sweet chocolate skin, and i gave you my old green baseball cap so you wouldn't –- couldn't --  forget me.           don't forget me now, my love iii. the room that was ours


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your heart is fluttering between the feathers of your ribs, a skeleton butterfly with wings crumbling into dust, breaking through the cocoon of your chest. your arms stretch wide as it spreads its wings and leaps.


Week Five: Judas
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About justlittlemusings

December 6, 1992
United Kingdom
Deviant for 9 years
Delicious Cake: My, that's a delicious cake (1)Delicious Cake: My, that's a delicious cake (1)Delicious Cake: My, that's a delicious cake (1)
Super Albino: Llamas are awesome! (141)
birthdAy '10: decade of deviousness
Paranoid: Wears a tinfoil hat

What Do You Think About My Work?492

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3u3a's avatar
Dear fellow deviant,
My Father and I are taking part in a competition for the best photo of a garden! I would be honoured if you were so kind to take your time and vote for ours (if you own a facebook account). The link is here:


In order to vote, you have to click on the green button with the word "Głosuj" (the competition takes place in Poland). Then you'll probably have to accept the application by clicking the OK button twice, but I promise it does no harm to your facebook wall or anything else! The prize in the competition is a multifunctional lawn mower, the one my Father has always dreamt about. He doesn't own a facebook account, so I'm the one who's taking care of the voting proccess. He's the author of the photos and the garden itself.

Thank you for your time and attention!
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LostInTheMorning's avatar
LostInTheMorning|Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the llama and the +watch :hug:
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justlittlemusings's avatar
No problem <3
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Vainamoinenian's avatar
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DaKeybladeMastahXD's avatar
DaKeybladeMastahXD|Hobbyist General Artist
I definitely loved your piece Pillow Memories; all good literature should be read :heart: And thank you for faving my pictures! I hope you take care :)
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Shoeborn's avatar
Shoeborn|Student General Artist
Thanks for the llama! :33
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Lacewinged-Beauty's avatar

Thank you for the watch - your support is appreciated! :love:
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