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Tristesse
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Sep 16, 2014 02:43PM

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Herself
Every night I lay into a pink sleep, which is the secrecy of her arm’s love for me. There is a solace for me in her eyes… if only I could live in their reflections forever! A landscape of exploding glass-works, that trickle wet stories down her beloved face. Into my dreams, they will fire an inscription of dazzling intimacies, in soft-blue storms of light. I want to run away with her down private roads, that glisten with the unrest of heartbeats.
Matthew Goff
Every night I lay into a pink sleep, which is the secrecy of her arm’s love for me. There is a solace for me in her eyes… if only I could live in their reflections forever! A landscape of exploding glass-works, that trickle wet stories down her beloved face. Into my dreams, they will fire an inscription of dazzling intimacies, in soft-blue storms of light. I want to run away with her down private roads, that glisten with the unrest of heartbeats.
Matthew Goff
I know of pink corners...
by Matthew Goff
I know of pink corners in the mind: Forest of sweet perfumes, whose travelers lend a hand to the breasts of sunset and its nervous mapping of amateur stars. There is a moment’s history in the certainty of salivating worlds: An odyssey for lovers who play cards at night and whose ideas for strategic foreplay are used like stilts. Hovering over a table, soaked with invisible juices, they are found flirting with each other’s secret personalities—heirs to the hormonal vibration of wet thoughts.
The Poetry of Matthew Goff
by Matthew Goff
I know of pink corners in the mind: Forest of sweet perfumes, whose travelers lend a hand to the breasts of sunset and its nervous mapping of amateur stars. There is a moment’s history in the certainty of salivating worlds: An odyssey for lovers who play cards at night and whose ideas for strategic foreplay are used like stilts. Hovering over a table, soaked with invisible juices, they are found flirting with each other’s secret personalities—heirs to the hormonal vibration of wet thoughts.
The Poetry of Matthew Goff


Excerpt:
Mirror, Mirror
No one visits me anymore
No one wants to hear my same original score
What am I here for?
If not, to poke and prod at every unsightly pore
I am the reflection of the past, present and future of what has gone wrong, what will go wrong, what has been improved and what needs to be improved
I’m the part of the psyche that never fades
And here I am collecting shade
I’m the reason why vanity and insecurity sustains
And here I am collecting shade
But, I will never fade
No, I will never fade
I’m transcendent lurking in the eyes of the judgmental
Of store windows, in broken hearts
I’m part of you, part of the truth
I am darkness
I am light
The place where you can’t hide your weakness or narcissistic tendencies
I am your soothsayer
I am your purveyor of reality
And here I am collecting shade
But, I will never fade
Lock me away, throw away the key
You’ll never get rid of me
I’m your worst nightmare
I’ve crawled inside
No, you cannot hide
Not even your staunch mental illness can keep you away from what I provide
Close the blinds
Bury your head under the covers
Lie there and blubber like an idiot
I’ll be there when you need me again
When you want to pretend
No matter what we’ll always be lifelong friends.
Books mentioned in this topic
Corridors of My Mind (other topics)The Poetry of Matthew Goff (other topics)