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My eyes are yours,
Blind me with passion,
My touch is yearning,
Let me lay, explore,
My hair is spun, wrapt,
In a bundle clutching,
Like fingers that see,
My breath, breathes you,
Deep, solemn in dream,
My heart lives beaten,
Before you even play
Mine as your instrument,
What marvels could be
Us as we are, ever one,
Sure and spry, innocent,
Full of life and of verve,
Real into new actuality,
Warm in the tended fires
Of the heats of winter,
Blazed with white flame
From an old tome untold,
Now I shall sleep longly,
With only yours beside,
My toes, frightfully curled,
In truest circles round you,
My body is your treasure,
Waiting to be unlocked.
They say the world is running out of oxygen
So that gives me more motivation to breathe yours in.
I'd sweep you off your feet
But i don't want to drop you
So let's just pretend i just did.
As long as we know it's genuine, it shouldn't be too big of a deal, right?
Jukebox rocks, two dozen hard?working dusty men,
Bent elbows lean, Gold liquid flows
Glass rises, lit cigarettes talk.

She poses on a white piano bar,
******* clad; slow moving, bending,
grinding, shaking, gyrating.

She blows kisses
to admiring eyes
with lustful wishes.

Cleo's little girl dream
of being rescued
fades with each midnight hour.

She spins around, steel?scissors held high.
Scissors reflect mirrored walls;
penetrates smoky beer air.

The scissor flashes down
cutting a hole above her heart.
Cleo offers the red satin circle,

Keepsake for the trucker who watches.
He believes, "She dances for me."
He offers up a dead President.

She cuts a hole here
cuts a hole there.
Soon she can start her own government.

It's hard to know where
first hole began or
last hole ends.
She giveth me
Astronomical vision's;
From outer space
Created aloft, the human race.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
 Sep 2015 Julia O'Neary
Lexie
Send me away
   Just never say *goodbye
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