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 Nov 2017 asia
Left Foot Poet
for the 111 yr. old young lady from Mars

fluids in, fluids out  

wake up at midnight, lips, throat, even eyes, California Death Valley parched, white crusted-stuck together,
it takes Poland Spring water from the Northeast to unlock the throat, ****** not sipped, from a plastic gourd  the chilling wetness slap to the body and brain screams metaphor, poem in there somewhere,

so what if it's spat-past midnight,
isn't this one of those soul-criticality's,
staying hydrated, (is) disco staying alive  

make sense to you?
the older I get, thirstier I am, could be I'm drying/dying out from the inside out,  
doctors clueless, but then again they don't reveal all they see out of poetic professional courtesy and they are tired of
yeah yeah yeah,
my professional courtesy answer to their  dire warnings repetitious  

tonight tho the metaphor runs strong like a mountain stream,
a Mt. Marcy beginning trickle growing into a mighty Hudson,
and the driving urge to drink, simple replenishment, birth fluid  
is strong transformed into words

water is words, the water is wide, the poems hydrate what's left on the inside, and the metaphor transforms itself again

water is words, words are water,  
the difference huge, the difference minuscule,
both pour, both refresh like a mother's body fluids,
all for one, one for all, and as closing time grows nigh,
staying-hydrated is primate

place a new cold bottle in readiness for my
3 o'clock feeding
11/14/17 12:04am
 Nov 2017 asia
let it happen
 Nov 2017 asia
your hand runs up my thigh
i'm flushed
your hand feels under my shirt
i'm counting the seconds in my head
you unclasp my bra
i'm enveloped by goosebumps
you notice i'm nervous
i'm beyond nervous
you tell me everything's ok
i'm alone
you pick my cherry
i get nothing in return
 Nov 2017 asia
 Nov 2017 asia
i am tired,
my eyes start to close,
i feel undesired,
my body is disposed.
 Nov 2017 asia
It's beautiful
 Nov 2017 asia
It's beautiful isn't it
The rawness of love
The rawness of human nature
That no matter how
Much we get hurt
We always love again

Why does this happen
Perhaps it's the fear of being
Or perhaps We fear that we will be judged
Or worse we will start to believe that
We can not be loved.
Please let me know what you guys think
 Nov 2017 asia
I once was a girl
Who was young and innocent and carefree  
But something changed within me
And the world turned against me
Ambivalence and dissonance now engulf me,
Creating something of anxiety inside me
I'm drowning in the depression sea
The life inside of me wanting to flee
I'm being attacked by something unseen
The pain and misery I feel
Is something so surreal
But I'm bound to these feelings
I'm anchored to the bottom of the sea
The demons inside me bury me deep...
What have I become?
 Nov 2017 asia
and then I asked you,
"What's your biggest fear?"

you gave me a quivering sigh,
looked at me straight in the eyes
and said,

"It's that eventually, you will see me
the way I see myself."
 Nov 2017 asia
harmony crescent
so so soon
well be together
staring at the stars and moon
and dreaming about forever
 Nov 2017 asia
i have a love affair with my scars,
a collector's cove
   of secret treasures

and late at night,
i stroke them like the memories
   of old lovers
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