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she walks on the tip of the ocean
kissing the mist as she shuffles by
o wondrous woman of the sky
to whom we go when we die
with beautiful ignorance
comparable to that of a fly
She had deep deportation eyes
Raven's feather hair
Skin as sweet as molasses
And of the same color there

Her name was never Lita
At least no two times the same
She wore the same old pair of sandals
Learning fast how to play the game

She would let you so close
But never there within
Her body was her refuge
A faultless heart so full of sin

She never took what was not belonging
The world owed her a lot
If she broke the piggy bank
It was all that she had got

In the blackness of the white room
Full of pressed rats and warthogs
She said it was their damnation
A Titanic corting through the fog

The winter came early that season
She felt the heat of I.C.E.
Her skates were best blade thin
Not thick enough for her own device

She had deep deportation eyes
The last time I saw her around
I don't see her at all now
Thinking that makes me frown
Corting - aberration of the Spanish word cortina - drapes or curtains . Here the fog acts as a curtain . Much of this if from the album 'Wheels on Fire' by "Cream".  Especially the songs "White Room" and "Pressed Rat and Warthog".
Even when we must part,
Even for the shortest of times,
I take you with me.

I can find you in the sunlight,
It's warmth caressing my face,
Kisses filled with love,

I can find you in the wind,
It's gusts surrounding me in hugs,
your caring embrace.

Parting may be sorrowful,
But even so,
I carry you with me,
Where ever I may go.
 Mar 2017 Bianca Reyes
Graff1980
My fingers are red
but I can see
the music thumping
as I cut my beets;
Blender burnt out
from the healthy mix
while I dance to
the beat of it.
Seems like a dream
Has over taken us now
Tossed in this turmoil
I'm not quite sure how
We've all become numbers
In this nameless place
Have pity on the whole human race

We've spent years of our future
Trying to run from the past
Relying on memories
That never did last
With so many questions
Who can we ask
Where are the morals that we used to have

Whatever happened to the morals in life
We opened the window
They flew into the night
Can anyone tell me how we'll ever get by
Without the morals that once held us so tight

The fewer the heartbeats
The shorter the time
The deeper the cavern
The harder the climb
The more that we look for
The less that we find
Of the morals that we left behind

Whatever happened to the morals in life
We opened the window
They flew into the night
Can anyone tell me how we'll ever survive
Without the morals that we once had in life
But alas there was that fateful date
She spiralled down into the hands of fate
Memories emerged from rusty iron doors
Of long forgotten ****** wars
From the horrific deeds both seen and did
She desperately wanted safely hid

So determined to relinquish her soul
Balancing on the edge of a massive Black Hole

Oh, how she wanted to let it all go
Swim in the Styx steady flow
Voices silently scream and thump
"Just jump"
Quickly darting thoughts, makes emotions scurry
A savage combatant, now battle worn and worried

This painful life seemed insignificant
No use in wishing things where different



In that final, fateful hour
Under the weight of anguish cowered
A hand reached out and let her know He'd hold tight and not let go
He also lived in that darkened zone
But together they'd never be alone
They constantly leaned on each other
From the emotional whirl, they where each other's buffer

Friendship deeper than can be imagined
Epic enough to be a poetic legend
Their very essence, bonding soul to soul
Love so pure, like the first winter's snow

But alas there was that fateful date
He spiralled down into the hands of fate
Again alone with memories
Echos of what use to be



It's a spiritual knowing
That a love so glowing
Persist only within a true soul-friend
It's a love so strong, it can not end
For when their next lifetime begins
They will find each other, yet again


©Pauline Russell
 Mar 2017 Bianca Reyes
Paige
Death flirts with me
And I love it
He tries to make me see
And when I don't He throws a fit
He knows that I love him
For He is my dearest friend
Whatever He asks of me He knows I'll do on a whim
I hope my adventure with Him will never come to an end
Death flirts with me
And I want Him to
Till the end of time we will be
He whispers softly with a coo
 Mar 2017 Bianca Reyes
ryn
Heated...
Like the fevered blood coursing through veins

Malignant...
Like open sores upon the skin

Defeated...
Like the drums that faltered in the rain

Potent...
Like the potion quietly bunged within

Temporary...
Like the promise doomed never to be kept

Hasty...
Like the mouth which spoke too quick

Greedy...
Like the palms, too eager to accept

Dead...**
Like the heart that now refused to tick
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