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We are lovers in color, salted scents that stick to covers. Splayed out on your coral-reef couch hackneyed and bleeding, bleary but needing, I've settled quietly into your imprints of indifference. Stale ***** tongue                                                                I'm late for work.       speaks insipidity:                                                             Shower if you want to.                                                                                              Lock the door as you leave.                                                                                                It was nice seeing you. I lay there greying all morning. Soaking into everything, your carpet seas brine my feeble, shadow-casting lesions.                                         Unsure if you've left me ***** or clean                 (this time) I drag my body down your tainted hallway. In stark fluorescence, there is no clarity but the echoes, like reflections of the emptiness of eve. Blood-letter run dry           somehow still high,                                                 ****** into the thoughtlessness                                                                                                        of                                                                                                                      your                                                                                                                                       tides                                                                                                                              (I am disregarded, but alive.)
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Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 4:51 AM UTC
"Unrequited"
We are lovers in color, salted scents that stick to covers. Splayed out on your coral-reef couch hackneyed and bleeding, bleary but needing, I've settled quietly into your imprints of indifference. Stale ***** tongue                                                                I'm late for work.       speaks insipidity:                                                             Shower if you want to.                                                                                              Lock the door as you leave.                                                                                                It was nice seeing you. I lay there greying all morning. Soaking into everything, your carpet seas brine my feeble, shadow-casting lesions.                                         Unsure if you've left me ***** or clean                 (this time) I drag my body down your tainted hallway. In stark fluorescence, there is no clarity but the echoes, like reflections of the emptiness of eve. Blood-letter run dry           somehow still high,                                                 ****** into the thoughtlessness                                                                                                        of                                                                                                                      your                                                                                                                                       tides                                                                                                                              (I am disregarded, but alive.)
I have recently asked a number of friends what their favorite word in the English language is. I have used each single word as a starting off point for a poem. Here is poem 1.
paris-adamson
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Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 4:51 AM UTC
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