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Heather Lynn Jan 2013
I sense something off.
A partical of a strand to the millionth degree.
Some sence is not making sense.
If i feel with my heart
If i see with my eyes
If i feel with my touch
If i hear with my ears
If i taste with my tounge..
Yes, let me taste with my tounge.
Let me feel the vibrations of your heartbeat so rhythmatically in tune with mine.
Let us paint this white flag red
With all our love and bloodshed.
Let me sense your sences until yours is mine and mine is yours.
Until two hearts beat as one
Until the swagger of our hips collide
Because yes, making sense is what we do best when it comes to our sences.
Heather Lynn Jan 2013
There exists this place within myself that is deep and unknown-
Yet it is filled with peace.
Star gazing - Mars gazing-
I watch them dance to a beat of their own
And change colors like passing cars on a speedway.
What do they dance to?
Do they dance all night?
If I stare long enough - the sky begins to close in on me -
Like an elevator door migrating to the millionth floor.
My eyes become heavy and my feet begin to tingle.

Is it my circulation or the energy penetrating the souls of my feet and the sockets of my eyes?
The energy that sits so still in the night sky -
Yet moves at the speed of light.
I close my eyes - tuck my red robe collar close around my neck and let the pull of the night sky and the beat of the night earth, layer into my whole self.

30 feet off the ground and i can still feel the cold, damp, strong roots of the earth pushing and pulling every inch of me.
A draft crawls up my legs that are covored in silk.
My body shivers and turns into itself.
It is then that i listen.
I listen to the voice on the other end of the receiver -
Yet i dont hear the things hes saying,
I hear the things he is not saying.
They are screaming so loud - yet his voice remains calm, monotone, methodic almost.
I feel his peaceful pull between reality and perception.
I wait.
I wait for the quick temper to emerge- to unravel itself like a traveling, unraveling ball of yarn.
So yearning to become its colors.
And then all goes still again..
Yet moving at a pace only he can create.
Moving at a pace that wont be allowed to be changed by anything or anyone - but maybe, just me.
The observation of human doings - wait - arent we suppose to be human beings?
Why do we believe that to do will bring us further and better than just being?
Than just being.
I am ready to just be.
I am ready.
Heather Lynn Jan 2013
Insatiable appetite.
For all the wrong things.
Who defines right and wrong?
WE DO.
Our perception is our reality..
It is the only reality we know.

Insatiable appetite.
I long to feel something other than a memory.
My today's are filled with memories of yesterday's.
All of my present moments..squashed.
My mind jumps and leaps through fields of
dreams.
A life of the unknown.
An insatiable appetite for what lies ahead.

— The End —