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the tender heart was open
sensitive to the touch
now in blood it's chokin'
can only take so much
The innocent is also the naive.
If not hold by hand , getting lost in neverland.
Comes eye to eye with darkness
See sparkles in sight
Lured away
Leading to devils ways.

Shell āœØšŸš
We do not make art,
Art makes us

Every word, every note, every brush-stroke

And every joy,
Every wonder,
Every tear,
And every pain,

Is part of us
Oh, if only you would incline your auricle to me my dear
and walk slowly towards the wisps of my caress, your skin
cool and fresh as rain, would feel the touch of my breath
I would whisper little nothings in your shell and tell you secrets
comb your hair, kiss your face, like only a mother's love could  
I'd lift the collar off your neck and blow kisses on your nape
I'd guide you into the warm rush of air that fills your void  
I'd lay on your chest while you breathe and repeat your creed
if only you would draw your helix ear to me and listen softly
I would be your song, your poem or maybe, a tinkling chime
I'd be your constant companion and listen to you, all for free
If I were the wind on your back, I'd push you gently forward
give you so many gusts of joy you would never turn your back
If I were the wind on your face I'd make you blush with pleasure
oh, if only you would incline your ear to me, my dear,
what a proud wind I would be...
In the darkest hours,
grief is overpowering.
The stars,
fade.
The moon,
dull.
This grief.
Drowning me in waves.
My father just died.
And Iā€™m almost 2000 miles away from him.
šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­
Filled with a beauty...
A tasty edible like mine
In the dishes of poetry
at the kitchen like mine
Flourishing sweet scent
everywhere in the SPK
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