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my love life with words has a hidden side, at times i even think: "is it the curse of the witch in a dream called me ' poet' to carry this along, all life long?" a never ending itch, that only exhilarates, and makes me ***** more than ever.                         as a poet, words of certain nature, winged birds, that fly high to a higher level few reach, enrapture me more than others. so much passion gush out, at the very first sight, like when i was deeply involved with a girl, first. but here is the secret that leads to a long love affair:              i make love like a libertine, pulling out all the stops, but later the true color of  the relationship emerges, i can't put up with post ****** hatred, it's a poison that kills all  lust for life, when i embrace a word i have this fervent wish in mind: "oh! word, that binds me with such fragrance, color and mood, embrace me, let me feel your pulse, permeate your warmth in to my heart color my mind with your brush" i love to relish each word, like a fresh, ripe, pulpy fruit, let there be no seed to spit. O
0
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 1:00 AM UTC
my love life with words
my love life with words has a hidden side, at times i even think: "is it the curse of the witch in a dream called me ' poet' to carry this along, all life long?" a never ending itch, that only exhilarates, and makes me ***** more than ever.                         as a poet, words of certain nature, winged birds, that fly high to a higher level few reach, enrapture me more than others. so much passion gush out, at the very first sight, like when i was deeply involved with a girl, first. but here is the secret that leads to a long love affair:              i make love like a libertine, pulling out all the stops, but later the true color of  the relationship emerges, i can't put up with post ****** hatred, it's a poison that kills all  lust for life, when i embrace a word i have this fervent wish in mind: "oh! word, that binds me with such fragrance, color and mood, embrace me, let me feel your pulse, permeate your warmth in to my heart color my mind with your brush" i love to relish each word, like a fresh, ripe, pulpy fruit, let there be no seed to spit. O
k-balachandran
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Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 1:00 AM UTC
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