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Her serene face, lovely sleepy moon,
framed by long tresses of dark curly clouds
on which he traces pelagic  memories
remains focused on his, for a while,
then,
her eyes, lovely restless beetles, sweetly
buzz around his eager lips, swollen with desire.

Closer she comes, he loves that coquettish look
on her face, how cheeky, the moves she make
as if she is game for the tryst, right now
whatever it takes from her part. it's clear.
How love makes a simple maiden, daring!

Dark beetles bring him memories of pollen,
mingled scents that cover her body head to toe,
now her lips are on his, exploring gently its contours
when teeth and swirling tongue too join in,
the cravings of unbridled horses of amour
they both come to be aware, when eyes involuntarily close.

When the red eyed embers of love turn to flames,
love boils in their cauldron, they rediscover passion,
as if they are green horns, once again in the enchanted woods
in this land of cupid, where the love rules are hurriedly rewritten.
 Apr 2014 Juniper Deel
Megan Anne
If life is a book, then these words that I’ve written
Of dreams and of wishes and of places I’ve visited
Mean nothing when there is no reason for living
So I’ll scatter the pages, indecipherable now
Stand by and watch as the clouds cry down
The ink sliding past, creating blurred lines
Until totally clean is this story of mine
I will start over new, an attempt to cheat time
I’ll rewrite the past, sketch new storylines
A careful redraft, but I’ll make sure this time
That instead of hers, you are mine.
all these words you promise
you think your such a godess
really you'll crash like everyone else
when i look at you
i see your secret words you preach
behind the close doors and the sheets
you think your so sneeky
but really your clear as bleach
and your stuck on my skin like a leach
so practice what you preach
and listen to what you teach
please get to walking
down that one way street
All armies are the same
Publicity is fame
Artillery makes the same old noise
Valor is an attribute of boys
Old soldiers all have tired eyes
All soldiers hear the same old lies
Dead bodies always have drawn flies
 Apr 2014 Juniper Deel
Bella
Being happy is a choice
I can wallow in self pity for the rest of my life
Or I can wake up excited to be alive and to be breathing
I want to see beauty in cracks on the sidewalk
I want to be content, ecstatic, elated
Every ******* day
I am going to be happy
I will not be held back
I will breathe in sunshine and exhale rain clouds
Happiness is far more beautiful than this sadness
I will not feel sorry for my past
I am obligated to make the best of it
I will be happy
Because happiness is a choice
This is the destructive path of mind
I may be reckless but I ain't blind
You come to me high on your throne
But think again this Hell's my home
I'll triumph win win I'll beat you down
Now say your prayers get in the ground
 Apr 2014 Juniper Deel
Marly
i feel like people forget that humans can die naturally.
i mean we're all so used to cancer taking our loved one's lives but
some people just sleep and don't wake up again and
i somehow manage to find that type of death beautiful.
is this horrible?  i can't tell
Swirls of white
Within my tea

The warming drink
Does comfort me

Around my mind creeping
Demons while I'm sleeping

Awake yet again
Though I'd rather not be

But closing my eyes
Brings the demons to me

Daylight , my reprieve
But alas it is fleeting

Once darkness falls
The demons start creeping

Cup of tea anyone?
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