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  Jan 2015 NARMONSEA
baz
There are some people in this world who bring out the best in you. And then there are those who bring out the worst. But there is a third type, the rare kind of person that is extremely hard to find. This is the kind of person that brings out the most in you, whether it be good or bad.

They make you cry at ten pm and then make you laugh hysterically at three am. They gingerly trail their thumb along yours while holding your hand and then stay horribly silent when they see tears tumbling down from your eyes.  They make you love the arguments, because everything they say is driven by ardor instead of acrimony. They make you begin to recognize the genuine affection that is hidden in the smallest of smirks.

They don't gently wipe away your tears and tell you it will be okay, but pick you up by the arm and tell you that yes, life will ******* over. Because they know that this is what is going to get you to finally stand up for yourself.  They tell you blatantly when your jokes ****, and insist on better ones. They make you feel so alive that you know you would follow them straight into hell if it means you can keep getting your fix. They cry easily, but due to the fact that they feel so much, and so much of it is for you.

They aren't your significant other, but they sure as hell give you a significant life.
ive gotten the amazing privilege of meeting this third kind of person. and *******, is he incredible.
  Jan 2015 NARMONSEA
James Jarrett
Love does not speak tonight
It pants
In warm whispers in your ear
With fingers trailing silken skin
Tracing soft and subtle curves
It pants
In hot and hurried breath
It licks
It bites
Salt and wet
'Til torrid passion
Is finally met
Love does not speak tonight
But sighs gently in your ear
  Jan 2015 NARMONSEA
devante moore
She doesn't have a castle but she's still my princess
NARMONSEA Jan 2015
Savor moments that have happened,
Than moments that never will.
Enjoy what you have and had instead of expecting something, they'll definitely come soon!
NARMONSEA Jan 2015
I love it when you use me.

Lighting the fire in my soul,
A slave at your bidding.

My clothes; a veil to hide
Your canvas:

The marks, the bruises,
The bite on my lip,
The saliva on my neck,
The rope burns on my wrists.

Signs of love that I wear proudly.

And while I retreat back
To the working life, with suit & tie,
As a professional working man,
Your voice chains me in place.

"I'm not done with you."*

With each layer falling to the floor,
In their rightful place,
Again,

I gladly offer every inch of my body to your personal satisfaction.
There's something intriguing about one 'owning' the other.
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