11-18-2005, 04:00 AM | #1 (permalink) |
Tilted
Location: Lost in the pages of a book full of death
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Afloat
Afloat
Glass Liquid glass A sheet unbroken concentric circles, miniscule ripples begun from spilled hair tilted head Yes. Sigh Warmth and yawning clutching at the sleep-state Turning. Sudden intake of breath Warm breast nipple-graze collides With slivers of a daydream, fragmented fantasies of you. Fingers of sunlight Harbingers of morning Clean, happy Reaching across the bed Caress my hair I smile My hands are your hands. My mind is glass. Water laps at the side of the boat Sun sinks below the horizon, Paints our skin red. Red on red, goosepimples Nipples hardened in cooling breeze. Hot breath against my throat Firm hands at my back Eyes, windows, open Intense. Sigh. Turning Covers over my head Hugging the pillow Clinging Waking. |
11-18-2005, 04:29 AM | #2 (permalink) |
Illusionary
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Excellent....this one in particular got me
Sigh Warmth and yawning clutching at the sleep-state Turning. Sudden intake of breath Warm breast nipple-graze collides With slivers of a daydream, fragmented fantasies of you. please continue
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Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha |
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