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same blood
different bodies

same air
different lungs

same truth
violent contradictions

She makes love to him with words
spilling ink of passion on paper.
She creates the sensual mood
with each stroke of her pen
splattered on the sheets.
She caresses his flesh
in every love letter.
She kisses up and down his
length in sentences and prose.
She tastes all his masculine scent
without ever speaking a word.
She bites his lip and tilts her
hips in between the lines.
She paints a picture that
makes him hard  for his
release and it only
took her mind.

The tree
has no need
to believe
in God
or son of man
no rhyme
or reason
at all
through time
the Kings and Queens
will fall
but the tree
still stands
so tall.
Whilst out walking I observed the old Pine trees that were planted before I was born and no doubt will still be there after I'm gone.
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