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Blood rushed to my face.
Reminds me of hot steam rushing to the ceiling while I shower.

The child in me wanted to skitter away--like a wild, galloping colt tripping over its legs.
But the woman in me stayed, grounded by the hulking rock of my deep emotion.

...Just a small glance--
A sheepish grin
As I perceived it.
I liked the tenderness there.

Piercings below his lower lip accentuated the smile I witnessed.
The one that lit up my eyes,
It was the reflection of fire in a mirror.

The piercings were black-pegged snake bites
Blending in well on the face they adorned
Seeming
To invite me towards
The shy curves of
His dark lips
To explore them,
and the protruding presence of the metal that was so becoming of him.

Neither of us approached the other,
And this subtle exchange turned into our little secret:
A delicious,
Lovely,
Vulnerable,
****,
Secret.
If your mind is in the right place,
a wound that keeps dripping is just an annoyance.

Blood on my lips because I opened the beer bottle lighter style
with a cheap blue steal knife
that mistakenly snapped off the glass with the cap
and left edges that are sharper than they look.

I sipped anyway,
and now my top lip is bleeding like a geyser
but it doesn't hurt.

The only problem is someone else might see it and think I'm weird.
Which is the same **** problem as always,
except usually I don't actually bleed.
 Jul 2013 Donny Edward Klein
Liam
Time...a puzzle
   to realists and surrealists alike

Time...a puzzle
   of grand pieces
    obvious if obtuse
     obtrusive and obstructive
   laboriously laid to waste
    constructing a picture of existence
     solid yet stolid

Time...a puzzle
   of fine pieces
    subtle if sharp
     spacious and serene
   pensively placed at random
    culminating in a mosaic of life
      fragmented yet feeling

Time...a puzzle of pieces
   contained within a box
   ...or...
   in a different dimension altogether...
there is noise,
is it in your house,
is it in your room
is it in your head
is it in your tomb...
grave thoughts or
      stirrings...
there is a noise,
is it on your sonar,
is it on your media,
is it on your wall,
does it all feed you?
is it magically delicious,
     or are you starving...

stir the emotions,
starve for attention,
get the tension,
or waiting for your pension
write your journal,
or live your life
MAYBE
live your journal
and write your life,

there is no one else who is able.
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