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I can make cake
make smiles
happiness too

I can make meals
heart beats
I can make love

I can make drinks
laundry
and poetry

but I can't
make you
love
me
&
It's
OK
I do not bleed over the page
Poetry is not sweating from my pores
I tend to ***** out my words
Take my money,
Let me be
Alone and free
Full of cavity.
Take my money,
Let me be
Grey and old
Working at a superstore.
Take all my money,
though I’m broke and poor
And my only other option is to be a *****.
Take my money
Protect it from theft
After all I am living in debt.
An art student struggling and driving oneself to poverty.
We are all born the same way
Naked and afraid
Would you let me give you an offering?
I will stand at the feet of your shrine
Smile shy and present my open palms
I will with hand silk & lip
Push open the heavy doors
Which keep my heart from yours
For both your touching knees, I'll wait
Would you let me give you an offering?
I'd love to take a deep breath in tune with you
Then slowly exhale as we embrace
Write giggles and wild squirms into the silence
Explicit words won't tell the tale
Echoes of laughter, dark lines of sweat
Our sweet moistures mixed in bed
Alchemy unmasked
Eye to eye, forehead to forehead
I
am
healing
but I don't want you to take off your shoes in my home yet

I
am
healing
but I'm still afraid of your touch

I
am
healing
but while I'm healing, you're burning like a broken electric wire, and while you burn you bloom

so yes, I am healing
slowly
trembling
feeling numb
but healing
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