twisting you beneath
my time in night
i shake you
to please you
we sway
from rhyme to rhyme
breaking rules
bending you right
and i feel
to touch you internally
breaking on blue tides
in my mind to caress you
yet we’re wallowing in disrespect
fueling toxic for this to make sense
i rake your leaves to leave you loveless
you tango through our vicinity
leaving us both heartless
and i die in you
to feel nostalgia for a few
seconds in remembrance
times in moments
our emotions before foreign

to touch internally

words by dominic riccitello

i fell in love
with the idea of us
twisting in words
breaking backs
in tune of twenty-two
and we age in
fine time and blurred lines
squeezing lemons
for men out of might
and we skip on fine lines
in white noise
to find ourselves in tune
with scribbles on blank pages
journals from our childhood
and i write to quake
tremble between words
in our truth
and i said i loved
but i lust ideas
two souls on a blank page
reminiscing over dinner
with romantic qualities
within each other
yet words scribe our moments
emotions hold our motions
hands grip like ideas grasp
our lips and create thunder
i feel i love on different pages
than the books they read
we fine tune moments for
our own pleasing
i fall in love with the idea
of two at a dinner table
while the tables spinning
and chairs turn 
from forward to reverse
our moments twine under
what motions we share
and i find at twenty seven
we quake for hope
because hope is what we hold
and our moments are either
short or long
and sometimes moments
are not enough at all
yet it’s what we take
them for


i fall to breathe
beneath you in summertime
before flowers of night
in time i find us
reminscing on soft cotton
sheets of your might
and i try to remember
fine times
lemons and limes
kissing within the fog
before oceans kissed us
and our feet
next to your house
on venice way
in dawn of saturday


Time never touched you. It touched me and then I seemed to regret everything. Your hair in my face, eyes in my mind, a darkness I found in you. But you don’t regret. You hold within. You feel in memory because love lost is still a love once had. You remember passion, conversations over dinner, moments interwoven before each other. We die to live, not die to cry over memories which don’t last our expected timeframe.