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Objects and CausesScathing watches compare sewn paralyses.
Of salted behaviours, woolen swords glide.
Throughout varied pens, a plight selects the pitied.
Within varied calluses, meek vessels shall guide.
A Seasonal Transition (Mildly Pitiful)Eves of winter prove beautifully lull.
And of certain perspectives, frighteningly dull.
Varied individuals take enjoyment within snow.
As their complexions produce a most plentiful glow.
Alas, the wintry tenderness has drifted with distance.
For, the vastness of summer claims pawns through persistence.
Surgical - Of the Complexion, and the MindA plucking of eyelashes excels through microscopic views.
Have the gears of benevolence ceased mild traces?
Of shrouded teas, mental extraction smoothens.
For, metallic drawings compose beloved faces.
D.E.A.T.H.Dampened regrets glide upon rivers.
Extensive pleas uphold timed defenses.
Atrocities compose through ignorant compression.
Trails upon serpents ensure heartless slumber.
Heinous tunnels ensure fictitious grandness.
RisenOf hermetic hearts, seeds shall boil.
Thus, terminal sorrow upon black soil.
A swollen bond; a gashing peak.
Upon, which I, the dimensional, speak.
S.T.O.R.M.S.Somber wakings through calamity.
Thoughtful nostalgia upon droplets.
Observations within tender glass.
Rested grasses beneath rhymes.
Mists of delusional contentment.
Serene glances nearest milky skies.
VisionOceans blossom of a midnight stroke.
Bells of speckles drench through dimming cloaks.
Floral gatherings aspire nearest formalities.
As molecular liquids soar though visionless smoke.
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More