No. 121 — Neo-Noir

No. 121June 2, 202622 lines1 min read

in the box of faded flowers.

The unexpected perfect sentence The one you pinned to your heart Like the notes you tucked in the box of faded flowers. Her stare erased the rest of the world to white While she kept you in color. But the cost of magic is learning it was practiced. Yet, I know I know we existed Together in that room With the candles that quivered from our whispers. We danced in the ecstasy conjured from the neon jukebox. The whites of our eyes glowed purple in the black light. And so did our skin. It must be, it must be a memory. For the both of us?

Stay in the room a little longer.

A way further in

Not the final meaning. Just a closer read, a better question, and a few nearby poems worth opening next.

LoveMemoryBody

A good place to begin when you want language that can soothe without lying.

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If this one stayed with you, keep it. Then either leave a note, keep moving through the archive, or open a random poem.

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Part of a living collection since September 2024.

No. 121

22 lines · 1 min read

130 total entries and still expanding.

Notes for Collection No. 121

A guestbook for the poem itself. Leave a response, an image prompt, or an image link if it belongs in the same room.

The unexpected perfect sentence

A good note starts where the poem stayed with you.

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Every note becomes part of the room's memory.

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The reading room

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