I would very much like to be strung along
would love to be your target practice
Wouldn't mind being hurt by you
It's all better than nothing

Circumstances are hinges
Where poetry swings.
They can open a door
To a million linguistic expressions
Or they can shut them off
**** them in the sore of your throat
But never mute the meaning of.
Meaning lays in the very state
Of furtiveness and nakedness
From which words, inner or external
Emerge.
When mine merge with yours
It's beautiful
But when feelings do
As ore as they can get
There is not a word
Left to say.


-- Eleanor