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Alphabet Ravine

Lydia Rae Bush Poetry

Tag: sexuality

Flagrant

March 3, 2023 Alphabet RavineLeave a comment

Topless with the windows open.

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Together

November 11, 2022November 10, 2022 Alphabet Ravine2 Comments

If I love you and you love me, 
we both I Love You, even as
we flip each other’s pronouns ’round, 

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Pedestal

April 27, 2022April 27, 2022 Alphabet Ravine3 Comments

Your world she’s never entered
over which she was the queen

shakes beneath her every footstep,
though its sky she’s never seen.Read More »

Excruciate

April 6, 2022February 10, 2023 Alphabet Ravine2 Comments

What I don’t know how to describe is the pain,
the brutality of saying no,
the agony of walking away,
prying my own hand, and making him go.

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More Than All the Space

February 8, 2022February 8, 2022 Alphabet Ravine12 Comments

You have no act or game,
but the boy with the guard up gets pretty far,
so you follow him at a distance, down the path he paves.

You take my consent to him as your encouragement,
and though it would have been so unlike you,
you should have used your privileges sooner-
You had them before he did.
Still, your truth is perfect-

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Identity

January 18, 2022January 25, 2022 Alphabet Ravine13 Comments

not quite a train wreck
but a train that keeps starting and stopping
going the wrong way on the track

and isn’t it sad?
trying not to have an adjective

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the hoe and the manwhore

December 28, 2021December 28, 2021 Alphabet Ravine8 Comments

My lies loved yours.
Our scars and alter egos danced,
and your ghost rolled over, straddling mine.

I found a shield in a linguistic sword;Read More »

Mr. Above It All

December 14, 2021December 13, 2021 Alphabet Ravine7 Comments

You primal man!
You human being!

With twitching groin and heated breathing
misting as a waterfall out onto heaving neck.

One of millions staying home,
desiring food and craving sex.

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The Captain

November 30, 2021November 30, 2021 Alphabet Ravine11 Comments

He’s thin as a rail with this equally thin
yet deceptively puffy, oversized jacket-
navy, that
he never removes.

He’s also got a farmer’s hat
with secret script written round the rim.
He never removes this,
save for in prayer.

He claims that he’s an alien.

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The Welcoming

December 20, 2019January 21, 2020 Alphabet Ravine5 Comments

Losing skin cells,
growing more-
part of daily human life.

I charge toward your heart from your outer layer,
constantly fearing
being shed,

running into nothing but
another, another
layer of skin.

I stood
finally-Read More »

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