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 Mar 2019 n-khrennikov
Amy Leigh
Little cracks like weeping windows
we grow opaque
and under the pale blue moon
(tainted)
you seep into my soul


© A. Leigh
He  slides tender
fingers tracing the
trunk of her spine

Leafy robes slip down
limbs bend sighing in
fragrant breeze's drift

Her skin is sylvan
each gesture dares
his every intention

She is pliant in his
palms, her arms are
branches open wide

Reposed inside her bole he  
feels her bend and sway
No storm can fell her.

Her roots spread deep
as deep as her love.

Tobias
There  once  was  a  writer  from  Laughlin
Considered  a  poetic  boffin
She  wrote  corny  verse
That  couldn’t  be  worse
And  thus  wasn’t  read  very  often.
ljm
now who could I be referring to?
 Mar 2019 n-khrennikov
eileen
Dull
 Mar 2019 n-khrennikov
eileen
Your lack of imagination
creativity
crushes me
 Mar 2019 n-khrennikov
eileen
love I'm gonna **** you
I bet you like that
10w / reversible
dark are the eyes
through which we see
hard is the heart
that inside beats
only the lonely
know of the deeds
cold are the hands
that outward reach

follow the progress
that gets in the way
swallow the innocence
in what we say
two-sided knife
baked in the cake
savor the flavor
of the escape

hold onto your breath
if there's any left
along with the secrets
that you have kept
tossing and turning
in unmade beds
knowing the deeds
cold are the hands
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