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At
The
Bottom
Of the Bottle
Is the Unedited Truth

Pray to the Porcelain God
With Sobriety in Mind
And a Story on
  Soaked
Paper
My breath short speechless and wrenching
as your hand brushes across my stomach
delicate and concentrated
Painting a picture
a step closer and your face is beside mine
I rest my face on your neck
eyes closed in acceptance
the way your hips move
slow and seductive
lure me into leaning in for the motion
your gaze dilated and glazed
full of lust and excitment
my chest beats so close to yours
as beads of sweat form upon it
The heat in these moments is
hotter than hell and
I cant seem to get enough of it
You pin my hands to the wall
and I kiss you in surrender and submission
The way things are going I'll fight the dawn
and delight in this night forever
eyelashes flutter
like butterflies
under my kiss
That inexplicable fluttering in the stomach
a feeling in the air almost like held breath
if you keep still and silent
you can almost hear something coming
not music
not voices
but a silent tension that heralds
and i feel if i wait long enough
something exciting is going to happen
to me
any second now
if i can just keep still and quiet enough...
although what i expect to happen at my age
i don't know
it happens at the begining of every summer
and I feel a girl again
full of breathless inexplicable excitment
where you know anything can happen
and will...
not sure I've managed to explain what I'm trying to, perhaps others know what I mean anyway despite the poem not being particulary good, do you ever get that feeling? at the begining of summer where you feel a teenager again almost holding your breath waiting for something magic you know will arrive if you can just keep still and be open
computers gone bananas
it's driving me insane
the pages scrolling up and down
then down and up again

replying to the poems
is taking me an age
I click onto the comment box
go to another page....:o(

so if I'm seeming tardy
please do not take offence
it isn't that I'm snubbing you
comps down is my defence
Having frustrating issues with my comp the last handful of days
i used to think -
how disloyal,
and slovenly,
and unjust of you.

the great king loved you!

but i understand, now, what it's like,
to belong so totally with someone -
your arthur and
my sweetheart -
and to want someone so much that it makes your whole body hurt -
your lancelot and
my agony.

nine tenths of my heart is yours,
but the other part
is his through and through,
and it's going to be this way, always.

i may love you all i like but
i cannot escape him.
i have legs that go for miles
and a laugh that lights the room.
and i have two boys,
and two halves of my heart,
and they each have one of the halves
(and for this
i have turmoil
and guilt
and elation
in equal parts)
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