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Your eyes drink of me,
Love makes them shine,
Your eyes that lean
So close to mine.

We have long been lovers,
We know the range
Of each other’s moods
And how they change;

But when we look
At each other so
Then we feel
How little we know;

The spirit eludes us,
Timid and free —
Can I ever know you
Or you know me?
 Aug 2014 CE Thompson
amrutha
Come to me, dear Harmony
Drown into me your ecstasy
Hold me, give your pain to me
Be my evening sky, I am your sea.
Come closer, my Destiny
Take me beyond this galaxy
The breeze sings, the moon glistens
Find in us the place we next meet.
 Aug 2014 CE Thompson
REDACTED
I can stare for days,
at the seagull,
sitting on my window sill.

You can tell from his expression,
he has no idea that people shoot at each other.

I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him,
until I have the same expression on my face…
My soul literally pulsates
sideways out of my body
I watch it with heavy eyes, my head
on my pillow
I hear a motor revving down the street
And it grounds me
This stranger with a completely different life than mine is running a stable engine
And he has no idea that our disconnectedness
has connected me
He doesn't know that we never met and shall never part, for that reason
He doesn't know that he put my soul back in place
I listen to that motor humming and I inhale
Suddenly, it stops-
Women-

Beings so glorious,
so radiant,
spectacular and
outstanding.
They're what God promised men:
paradise.
A combination of strength,
intelligence,
intuition,
and sensitivity all in one.
How beauty bestows women
at their grace
for which women are creators
of life.
Creators of men.
The great ability
that women have over
anything and everything,
including men.
How a woman's body is
beautifully crafted
perfectly in its own
unique and genuine way.
How women are life;
the life that we all
are apart of,
making women
a man's entire universe.
In the darkest corners you lurk with teeth snarling,
unleashing your claws to tear at her fragile skin.
The arrows of your pent up
anger never miss their target, her.
Time between dusk to dawn
filled with ink stained air,
You dug your paws on her once fragile mind,
excavating the emotions she
boxed and buried.
Tears she shed when you mined her heart with crass hands,
Shot daggers with your eyes,
Stained countless sheets of paper.


Remember:
*Nothing Builds Character More Than An Antagonist
What was utmost
enamoring
about her,
was how she could
see something
filled with darkness,
but still manage
to see genuine
beauty.
How,
not just her kindness,
but grace,
roared
so loudly
that even the most
bitter
human being
teared up.
Not help
but to feel strongly,
yet
dangerously
drawn to her
aura & soul.
A miracle
is what
she was,
and still is
to this day.
you are beautiful.
you are tragically beautiful.
you are notre dame
at night.
you are the eiffel tower
amidst bombshells.
you are the house of commons
and the house of lords.
you are the lone beam
standing after Katrina.
you are the one baby sea turtle
who makes it off the beach.
you are the dark side of the moon.
you are the patch of sand
struck by lightning.
you are the remains discovered
after the plane goes down.
you're a smooth puddle in a parking lot.
you are the creaky stair
that warns of intruders.
you are all of the red skittles.
you are Job 3:14.
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