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Rain is fun.

My poetic longing is fun.

My poetic muse search is stimulating.

life is poetic!

poems are everywhere and,

a poem I am.

a poem you are.

poetry is my fuel.

fuel to burn my
poetic fire and desires.

islands of fantasy where
the ocean top shimmers like flawless diamonds and
my soulmate breaks its surface.

puddles are deeper than

the swooshing from the traffic
along the rain soaked roadway behind me lets me know that I am alive.

and while I am alive... ..
a poem I am.

one day
you may be the paper/muse that i insert my ink
in to... ..
in the rain,
at isleview
the river
i sit.

a muse is what
i seek.
a muse is what
i seek.

sometimes... ..

muses are like
hide and seek.
You want more charity
from poor, collecting moon seeds
to brighten black walls.


My eyes become
lakes, you would walk in moon, when
monologue ends.


Why dip your fingers
in blood of sacred book
and drawing two wings?
I opened up to you I showed
You my beautiful scars.
All you did was add another one
#scars # beautiful
i am starting to understand
that what makes me happy
is not always what i deserve
They are never permanent,
Always change.
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