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Every word I every penned I stole from you....



As each kiss became poetry
born of flesh
pressed soft against mine own

whose tongue
both muted and inspired
to speak aloud those silent pauses...

held gentle within each
heated breath

to give voice to that wanton ache
I felt
when er' your lips
ceased their tender ministrations

Forming open pauses

between

each

line

that ached to be filled
with further words

born
of further

kisses.
She lay there
naked...

covered in blood...

crying...



Love me.
To my grand daughter due any time soon.
“I’m just bored,” she said,
but in reality she was just numb,
she didn’t want to feel;
she lay expressionless,
her hair spilling everywhere.

Her headphones tangled and twisted
to match her thoughts
her mind racing
people called her lazy
a waste of space.

Her books no longer thrilled her
“I read it already”
her music lost meaning
“It gives me a headache”
her sketches greyed
“I ran out of space."

She was bored
tired
not hungry
sleepy
alone.

Hardly anyone noticed her shadow disappearing.

-k.m.
Quick Mr Ted get out of bed
the garden's crisp and white
let's dress up warm against the storm
and have a snowball fight

Then dig a den and build snow men
and decorate with coal
a hat, a scarf, a carrot half
and twig arms make him whole

Then let's lie down and move around
to give the angels wings
then put out bread for robins red
whom songs of winter sings

a tea tray sled for me and Ted
to slide down hill and plain
then lose control, we crash and roll
and do it all again

The cold wind blows, red cheeks and nose
our fingers all but numb
but cocoa cup warms us back up
while cuddling up with mum

Then time to sleep snuggle in deep
and dream of all we've done
for when all's told snow may be cold
but winters so much fun
Silent angels pray for me
as I sleep sound this night
Let not the daemons in my mind
er' hide me from thy sight

Let their lies ner' reach my ears
nor worry my poor heart
but angels pray please keep me safe
and never from me part
I need a cherry chapstick

never mind...

I'll

share yours.
Youre on my mind

and

the tip
of


my tongue.
She offered me her lips
but I
just had to
decline

as I knew they wouldn't suit me
So I choose
to stick
with mine
Kiss off is refusing it's slang
Cocoa and kisses
mingle gentle
upon my
trembling

lower

lip
Unlike Monroe
she never compromised
her heart
for
her art.
In reply to Azaria's poem to me. Her avatar is M.Monroe.
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