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There is a story to tell.
I met a person.
There is much to tell.
Choked up emotions.

The person listens.
Reads my stories too.
Not only the intro,
but the whole thing through.

Tells me I am great,
when I know the truth.
This has to be fate.
Because it soothes.

Positive and,
Appreciates.
Hard work, effort.
Invigorates.

The person fills,
me with words.
When I am lost,
and I am slurred.

Hair so curly,
Maybe straight.
Not sure, did
not speculate.

Eyes brown,
maybe blue.
Come to think of it,
it is you.
The moon lulled itself
Into few second-long naps,
The winds whispered the smell
Of the oncoming rains
As ants did a tight-rope
On the tree's sleeves.
The dog pricked its ears,
Each time the tiny hurricane
Of dried leaves whirled round.
The spider attempted to balance itself
On the maze of its own making,
As the web threads strummed
A happy tune
In response to the wind.
The lull before the storm,
Was becoming too much of a bulk
For the clouds to bear,
Before a slant of water droplets,
(Some drying midway through
The atmosphere's layers,)
Stamped their arrival
On the parched layers
Of land, leaves and minds.
Streaks of lightning
Conducted a survey
On the distribution of downpour
Clicking vintage tinted photographs.
The rains slowed down to a drizzle,
The insects buzzed through a banter,
The moon tried to
Sneak through the clouds,
Surprised at its reflection
In a puddle on the street.
The morning wakes up
Smelling a misty presence
Of the (previous) night it rained.
the encouragement you need I cannot give you
let's take blurred lines as warning signs
that our boundaries are breaking
this wine glass is precarious
See - I'm on the edge.
Before I spill
my mind
go &
g
a
t
h
e
r
the glass
- just don't get wet -
cryptic and whatever. sorta means something. interpret it how you will.
"you can't be a little bit wet. either you are or you aren't."
- that's what my mum always said.
For all the lady poets
whose songs are sung
who dance on fire
when the night comes
who are willing to
go to the heart of the matter,
whose desires erupt
behind the smile
who hold secrets
and shadows,
who can turn you
into slick wet stone
with one word,
one look
one touch
one tap on the shoulder.

Who hold you between
their finger tips
roll you into a
tightening knot of
desire and fear and apprehension
and
bring home your reality
far too clear.

For all the lady poets
who know you too well
who know that shell
who can crack you
in a moment
and never look back
or
love you into life
or
leave you child like
stammering and wondering.

For all the lady poets
who love you too well
who are with you
for the moment,
know your
heaven and hell
and
open their words on these pages
a sweet treat
a sweet longing
a sweet surrender
the lady poets
can spin you
twist you
and
put you back on top.

The lady poets
hold the keys
have the words,
vast universes inside,
hold on
it's an exquisite ride
better buckle up
hunker down
hold on tight
without the lady poets
I'd never make it through the night.
Is this emptiness
This hollowness
This unappealing lowliness
I want to crawl beneath my bed
And cry myself to sleep
But the tears won't come
I can't explain this feeling
It fills me up and it's unyielding
But I still feel empty when
I think about myself and
What to do
I'm scared
I'm scared of crying
Scared of trying
Scared of it all
They're not scared
I don't know why
They seem so strong
The more I talk
The more I'm wrong
The more it seems like something
Gone
Or missing
Maybe  something added
Either way
It feels so bad
And I don't want to blink
I'm scared that wink will
Send me out there screaming
Throwing me over the edge
Are they weeping?
Will I be wept for
If I leave?
Or am I just something
People will leave?
Is this a matter of worth
Or money?
Am I a product?
And my saleswomans
Not sunny?
I want to be purchased
I want to be owned
I want to used
I want to be broken
And fixed like a clock
That refuses to tick
I want something else
Something more than this

I seek you with intentions
Of quite little worth
And it hurts but
I know that you'll make
Me quite sure
That I'm righteous and
Funny and happy and true
Enough that quite possibly
I'll be good to you
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