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 Apr 2018 Desi
Kewayne Wadley
When the tide was high
I loved to hang over the edge.
Rising and falling.
The gap widening then closing.
No longer visible to shore.
I'd lean over.
The wind thumping me in the chest.
My lips peeled in joy.
Well conditioned hair.
My fingers lost in wave after wave.
The sails filled in a gust.
My fingers folded between the current.
I a stow away.
Finding my way to the helm.
My hand lost in a sea of hair.
Sailing towards the horizon
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
   to the seminal instance
   whence spermatozoa
   (from profuse *******) beget

the miraculous propensity
   to procreate despite the steep odds
   female fertility fosters potential impregnation
   fusing the hereditary debt

of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
   fueling fancy free footloose fornication
   prior to seminal fertilization union
   sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with

   diametrically opposed exultant sensations
   (biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
   et cetera) seismic shocks inject  
when deliberate intent arises to disregard

   applying prophylactics choice
   plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
   bastes the "cooking" egg omelette  

which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
   first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
   of webbed world de jure upon
   consummating that most miraculous deed

necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
   from messy menstrual cycle
   she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
   in the euphoric family, she instinctually
   abides prenatal signals that heed

without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
   pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
   ineluctably, kinesthetically
   lectured by elder, especially cast

in thee reel life drama, that nine months
   til offspring utters initial whimper
   elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing

   to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
   when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably

   (perhaps colicky infant)
   gets first dibs to suckle,
   which round the clock nursing
   consumes moments many vast.
 Apr 2018 Desi
Maira
Gwen
 Apr 2018 Desi
Maira
Dance to the cheering of men
Show yourself and dance, Dear Gwen.
They pry on you but that's alright,
You'll serve three for tonight
Take it light

One at a time, do not rush
With two hands and a mouth, pure cold cash
You get your pay, they get their pleasure
With a body as if porcelain like yours
Women have no pressure

Your price is high so let no customer down
Satisfy and obey, smile never frown
Dance gwen 'till the sun arises
Until then, you're trapped in your own darkness
Poor gwen, used to satisfy moree than less

Take a quick sip, this liqour has its magic
Makes you brave, night less tragic
It's the moon again, the spotlight is on
The room is dim but the eyes are dawned

Dance Gwen, dance 'till dawn
Dance to the cheering of men
The less you wear, the more you gain
Dance Gwen, Dance until you're worn
Worn out, keep your thorns.
 Apr 2018 Desi
Swathilris
When the ink kisses the last traces of my words,
So exquisitely penned,
My putrescent heart hammers one final beat
Because the perishable is ethereal

We never do water artificial flowers.

So I smile
And breathe in eternal obscurity.

Like watercolours
I fade away
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