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Your over sized eyes offer no kind of fear Mostly just a jovial inquiry Into the most trivial causes of our existence You eager little child The tuffs of you hair sprout sideways A random treble of camouflage comfort As if to explore Not obstructed by some code of calamity Not a paw or a hand The tiny tongs of your fingers spread grasping some house wives fruit salad Your nails colored like a stained cigarette Once pried away from the comforts of your cage You grasp tightly to the mixed fabrication of my dress Ever so snugly you claw at my hips With your coarse outer being longing for more If I loosened my grip you would tighten yours Not out of fear But of pure connection Even in this writhing heat who could not welcome this kind of embrace Once placed in a tree Your head swivels as if on a pike The look on your face indicates you are on the best acid trip of your life Perfectly content just to be staring at my face Examining the purple shadows And the hidden valleys of my eyebrows Sunbeams radiate from your egg shaped contemplation You are dewily mellow old friend When you look at me I want to burst into ironic symphonies of bliss The love of a sloth
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Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:29 AM UTC
Stoners of the Rain forest
Your over sized eyes offer no kind of fear Mostly just a jovial inquiry Into the most trivial causes of our existence You eager little child The tuffs of you hair sprout sideways A random treble of camouflage comfort As if to explore Not obstructed by some code of calamity Not a paw or a hand The tiny tongs of your fingers spread grasping some house wives fruit salad Your nails colored like a stained cigarette Once pried away from the comforts of your cage You grasp tightly to the mixed fabrication of my dress Ever so snugly you claw at my hips With your coarse outer being longing for more If I loosened my grip you would tighten yours Not out of fear But of pure connection Even in this writhing heat who could not welcome this kind of embrace Once placed in a tree Your head swivels as if on a pike The look on your face indicates you are on the best acid trip of your life Perfectly content just to be staring at my face Examining the purple shadows And the hidden valleys of my eyebrows Sunbeams radiate from your egg shaped contemplation You are dewily mellow old friend When you look at me I want to burst into ironic symphonies of bliss The love of a sloth
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Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:29 AM UTC
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