LoveShotEyes's avatar
183 Watchers30.2K Page Views193 Deviations
A
An Armada of Longing
Her smile makes a maelstrom of my stomach, dazzling these little ships and their sails. She turns my bones to custard and sails my thoughts across them like a tiny Armada of longing.
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Vertigo
He sleeps the sleep of a man who doesn't yet know that Love sits sewing her shadow to the dawn, nursing a subtle, aching silence in his lungs with her name, her shape. He can't fathom how someone can sit so deep inside him, shelling the shadows of himself as though there are moons at their core, how he no longer believes in falling lightly in love but in committing himself to inevitable call of concrete or how she lingers like ink on his fingers, like a story he's still figuring out how to write.
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W
Why the ostrich bleeds
I have overshared enough.
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c
country's distance
there is a simplicity to feelings without faces, the voice carries a weight that touch cannot match. syllables seek truth like tepid fingers, hungry for the soft skin of another soul. you see, there is a loneliness that plagues me like my mother's cancer. it seeks me in my silent moments, the times where i am alone with the devil that has tried to take me since i was 3 years old. it seeks to silence my breaths and absolve me into the stillness of early morning light. but you, faceless voice behind the neon glow, keep me grounded and my breathing humming soft with the morning news from a country's distance.
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ghost mountains
we stood at the edge of our local ocean, the mountains in the distance faint ghosts, telling us the secrets of our mother and holding memories in the hollows of the cliffs. caves of feeling seeking our hearts like a trespass song. it was here, at 5 years old i first felt the spirit of my self. where i fell in tune with the insides that hide within our insides, transparent and full of existence beyond what our bones can hold. and when i held your hand, we existed in a moment of time that matter could not touch. and i knew then that if i were ever to need you again i need only to reach for you.
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cannibal snowflakes
watching madmen (and) eating fresh kills in the dark picking the carcass apart my hands halves of a euphemism the raw start of symbolism hearts unharmed are poems unwritten
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a
all in
sometimes you fill my head so (full) I can feel you there the progress of a constant thought a dream made tangible
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j
july 14th (1:58 am)
add a hundred miles for every year between us find the day when I can say that's your best smile maybe time's just a compass (and an arrow's accomplice) and all it's accomplished is pointing the way for a while
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Spotlight

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Vertigo
He sleeps the sleep of a man who doesn't yet know that Love sits sewing her shadow to the dawn, nursing a subtle, aching silence in his lungs with her name, her shape. He can't fathom how someone can sit so deep inside him, shelling the shadows of himself as though there are moons at their core, how he no longer believes in falling lightly in love but in committing himself to inevitable call of concrete or how she lingers like ink on his fingers, like a story he's still figuring out how to write.
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United Kingdom
Deviant for 12 years
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Albino Llama: Llamas are awesome! (95)
Goodbye, dA
So, after five glorious and inspiring years of being involved in the dA community, the time has finally come for me to bid my farewells and sail into some distant sunset. Although my years on here has been nothing short of incredible, I think it's time for me to move onto pastures new and try something different in an attempt to crack into this crazy industry of ours. Although I'm saying goodbye, it's only a partial goodbye. There is far too much talent on this site for me to go completely, so I will still be around to check up on the magic that you guys are making, but I won't be posting any of my own work on here anymore. If you do want t
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Sonnet to Hand-Rolled Golden Virginia
You are right. It does come first. White touchpaper thin as a host, then gunpowder, fuse, and the rest will follow, sure as breath. Little promethean acts that set the world alight. Ritual origami for the spiritually lost. Forgive the quick intimacy at bars and parties, for we know each other in the lung, the heart; smoke-screen wizards all. And I a good enough person otherwise. I take the stairs. Buy vegetables. Am a paid-up member of Amnesty International. I hold down a job, between fag-breaks. Angel I am not. Everyone needs forgiving. So forgive me, but I won't quit. And if this helps you to overlook my other, many, far more g
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how to be a great writer
you've got to fuck a great many women beautiful women and write a few decent love poems. and don't worry about age and/or freshly-arrived talents. just drink more beer more and more beer and attend the racetrack at least once a week and win if possible. learning to win is hard - any slob can be a good loser. and don't forget your Brahms and your Bach and your beer. don't overexercise. sleep until noon. avoid credit cards or paying for anything on time. remember that there isn't a piece of ass in this world worth over $50 (in 1977). and if you have the ability to love love yourself first but always be aware of the pos
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sacredZinja's avatar
sacredZinja|Hobbyist Writer
Hey, maybe you like to join our contest in the BoundByGenderProject. I've read something from you, so I think you might be interested: boundbygenderproject.deviantar…

Best wishes,
Zinja
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e-bojnowski's avatar
:frog: thank you!
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eddiebadapples's avatar
Thanks again!
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eddiebadapples's avatar
Thanks!!!
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iPawed's avatar
iPawed|Hobbyist Writer
:heart:
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Pariaa's avatar
Pariaa|Hobbyist Photographer
thank you:heart:
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eddiebadapples's avatar
Thanks!
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