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my dog lies on the concrete patio
pink belly up
the fresh alabama sun cooking the air
draped solid over us like a wet blanket.

he is not part of my reality
he cares not for tardiness
or three-day-leg-stubble
or cleaning the lint trap.

i ache to be a part of his
pink belly up
only stirring to watch the children
play across the street.
 May 2014 Margaret
Tryst
To strive to know the heart of one so pure,
To contemplate the fate of one so young;
With heavy hearts, uncertain and unsure,
We honor thee and praise thee with our song;
To stand alone, amongst the enemy,
To take a stand, and stare them in the face;
With courage in your heart, to let them see
That you alone can walk within God's grace;
To burn and burn and thrice to burn again,
To turn the skin, and flesh, and bone to ash;
Discarding all remains unto the Seine,
The stains upon their souls will never wash;
        Old men of cloth, long deaf to voices sainted;
        Her name condemns your black-hearts ever tainted.
In memory of Joan of Arc, murdered 30th May 1431.
Craving your luscious lips right next to mine.
Reminiscing the moment when we experienced Cloud Nine.
It began with a French kiss, then biting your hard *******,
That further progressed to smacking your buttocks, creating small ripples.
  
As our clothes depart, we escalated the ****** tension with every touch we had marked.
Passion so intense, penetrating ever so deep;
We grasped the feeling of ecstasy till that moment when we couldn’t breathe.
Experiencing love and bliss that felt like an eternity…
  
How fortunate were we to experience the alignment of our souls unbound.
Till the moment we parted ways, leaving memorable traces so profound.
  
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
I walked by a boy this morning
And I couldn’t help but think
Maybe we could fall in love someday,
But obviously that day is not today
Because I went on to my next class
And he went to his.

But if you’re reading this
I just wanted to let you know
I’m still waiting for that someday.

m.c.c.
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