xanthan gum

Suggestion -- and I [s]your bleeding October girl[/s], the blueprint to your doomsday master plan. It breaks the three line set up, but you don't really need reminding in a ...

I love how you show all the versions so we can see the progression on this work. You're determined to perfect it. I agree with Snoink with the first line ...

ignore, please, "please ignore", perhaps, would flow off the tongue easier - that is an important aspect to this poem, correct?

I would redo the linebreaks here. These are my suggestions: The wavelets of the lake pat against your ankles,[s] like [/s]a wagging , soggy dog ready to shake and ecstatic ...

I threatened to frame myself in a young boys mind, wrapped so carelessly in cottons, using only my salty eyes and sand-tangled hair. I could hear the flutter and click ...

to the signs of "leave." This latter part of the image isn't nearly as beautiful as the rest of it. It's nice, but it pales in comparison. "signs of leave"? ...

And my skin is scrawled with sooty black ink And sooty black ink runs through my veins. Lots of "and"s to start off lines makes it seems sort of like ...

The gears of this world are well-oiled with sweat from our brows and backs, black tides of war clicking over latitudes and longitudes and dashing down minutes to the next ...

Oh. Much Better.

Line by line thoughts: You’re hiding in my finger-folds. I see this more as the representative of the spaces between one's fingers. Either a lover or a partner or a ...

:) Amusing, and I liked how it showed the tie in to the backward haunting thoughts of your mind. I wish there weren't so many capitals, but the format make ...

On that night of side stream smoke, I sat amongst men whose shoulders’ slope showed smiles that come hard fade harder, like forcing beauty into stones. Our friendship had lit ...

" I don't know what"

je ne sais quoi blossoms from the unblemished pores of children, breezy in the world's new spotless sunshine. evanescent laughter floats the summer air, popping wings on harsh words, but ...

My impulses bring the relationship to strobe-light flickers, and your flares speak, “Who doesn’t love the occasional black out?” I’m sorry that most of our time is spent in a ...