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Sweet water flows from saintly hills,
each honeyed drop of amber;
Rambling downward in lush cascades,
filling golden pools of nectar.

Those drizzled sounds reverberate,
among the mountains' craggy stones;
As subtle strains of melodies,
infuse love's enchanting tones.

A symphony emanates with flair,
as sparrows join in harmony;
And with their chirping notes of joy,
embodies a touch of fantasy.

The sumptuous springs below the hills,
where all of nature comes to play;
Revive the air in fragrant scents,
yielding life's glorious serenade.
We felt the wistfulness and urging
Somewhere in the pale light
Slanting across our bodies
Submerged in a bed that smelled of our discarded childhoods
Tasted of our desperation and craving for love
Devoid of anything saccharine, bitter in the aftertaste

In the early morning I laid there, on top of you
Warmth trailing from your body,
Snaking across the smooth planes of my stomach
You cradling me like I wished my father could have
Fingers threading through my hair
Untangling the knots from my childhood

You spoke into my hairline,
Christened yourself repeatedly on my skin
Your voice was a Freudian call
Above the dirge of angry tidal water
Echoing from the corpses of our past

We felt the wistfulness and urging
Somewhere in the pale light
Slanting across our faces
Verdant green of your eyes hypnotizing me
I splayed my fingers against your chest
Felt your ****** harden against the soft pad

I remembered the taste of sweet tomatoes, plump, ripe
Bursting juice onto my tongue
Coffee-soaked ladyfingers
Dappled sunlight streaming through leaves
Blue cloudless sky
Peals of youthful laughter
The smell of your mother's car—Pine Air Freshener
Her rosary swaying back and forth
A religious sacred pendulum

We felt the wistfulness and urging
Somewhere in the duller light
Slanting across our skin
Our contrasting polarizing canvases
We mourned each other in our brokenness
And in the pale evening,
Tried to assemble our skeletons back together
ambedo
n. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—briefly soaking in the experience of being alive, an act that is done purely for its own sake.

{taken from "The Dictionary of Obscure Words."}
So he sailed
Towards the insane weather
It rained furiously
A brave lonely sailor
In the Pacific
The sharks, killer whales
They all wanted to race
They betted to break his sail

It wasn’t that huge
Neither a Dutch-man
Nor a Black Pearl
He wasn’t even as Jack
The only mercy he could receive
Is from mother nature
Through the cloudy wild ocean
His voyage to find an island
Where no man will hurt
No human will be animal
No beasts could roar
Will never anchor until he discovers

His adventure won’t be told
Generations after him
He wasn’t having company
Of a strong lady
Or a strong child
He wasn’t expecting to find
A family where he’d anchor

In search for life
In search for peace
In search for humanity
He’ll sail to his death
On that lonely little boat
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