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 Apr 2013 Colorfulpen
F White
Naught
 Apr 2013 Colorfulpen
F White
my fingers are bruised
left, inside contours, running along the point .

a dull smear of pain

accidental smudges
of my fragility are  just
there-
lightly traced
against my joints

outside injury
where did you come from?

either way,

now you match
the

ache inside.
copyright fhw, 2013
 Apr 2013 Colorfulpen
Sawyer
Rain is
Falling
Outside, a
Downpour for
Three days
And three
Nights.
In the
Dark,
It whispers
To me, secrets
Like an old
Friend.
Cool silver
Over my wrists,
My neck;
Falling.
Shiver of
Antici-
Pation tremble
In my fingers.
Electricity
Hums,
Thunder
Rumbles and
Crashes overhead.
This is where
I am
Home.
a large room,

no, a really,

unimaginably

large room,

with a typewriter

in the center

-

the words

free yourself

are already spoken,

and underlined,

in the center

of the page

-

there is no blinking cursor,

no glowing white field

-

an iron sight

holds the paper down

so you can

torture or nurture

or shun or ****** it

with both

precision and accuracy

-

careful though,

you can drift

beyond the walls of your

supposedly

big room

in the length of a page
Lick this
and take some words from my mouth
to add to your poems
to soak into your mind
so they form ****** actions
in your dreams

Lick this
with long laps
and canine desire
to promise you must
at least once
taste me
There is a photo of your leg
and it is so smooth I want to
see it stretch from here to
eternity …
She saw me break down
and watched me cry
and listened to me beg
but she had to
shoot me
point blank
and be done with it all
I want to sleep with you
in the quiet darkness
beneath the sliver of a silver moon

I want to sleep with you
soft and close and tireless
gentle touching on a single pillow

I want to sleep with you
as the dawn becomes restless
breathing one into another life

I want to sleep with you
and find you deep inside my head
dark becoming light where you step

I want to sleep with you
every time every where
eternal
silence
blessed
amen
Place your hand upon my chest
pound your palm
to pick up the pace
and put the pieces
                                 back
What formal madness need I study
To learn the love you cannot define?
What recipe is mixed so muddy
It’s neither blessed with blood nor wine?

So my remains, ashes of memory
Are the fates cast to the wind
And anything thought meant to be
Proves how thoroughly I have sinned

The echoes of your bitter words
So much louder than ringing in my ears
Bounce through gray skies like crippled birds
That perch and age through all these years

Hide from shelter, shiver from fate
It’s all been for naught and now it’s too late
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