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So to ravage these eager glimpses of grins so restricted
Will these hungry hearts ever get their fill?
I find anorexic love is such wasted time
It’s like martyrs without a meaning
A world apart
Three worlds from your heart
Forever is such a crowded sound
vibrations of time compete with the voice of a stoic.
Despair is the birth of a constant decay
i shattered his stone coat
snug around his idle core
by my fist of strong will and liberty
behind it bearing the beat of a newborn
simple and soft
radiating and revealed
to fruitful camaraderie
bionic boy bound by his brothers
craving delights they say a man should
thundering still with lust's vehemence
piercing through cyan lenses
i sliced it open
tore it out.
denied him at birth.
****** love
it's not enough.
it will die without saying so.
gathering stones
a liar in love
a crow in the cold
beginnings ascend
from the carcass of folly
what remains is the will
what survives is what
was there all along
courage is knowing
Air fan filtering through 
the cruelty of the world,
A sweeping hum       a deadly slice,
helicopter chopping 
fields within the fumes.
Crop circle shaped symmetry
determined force of army
To fight for freedom in its name.
No religion come to take our place,
No wing disturbs our flying grace. 
Horaah!  Horaah!
United we will stay.
Copyright Christopher Rossi, 2010
shoot yourself to see what it feels like
write a book
deny the truth
deny meaning
accept life
write a million poems
make some phone calls
keep the past buried
milk
eggs
orange juice
...
Copyright: Bennett Tyler
Internal quarrels rage within,
While all the while I'm without
Your kiss, your lips, unpursed for me.
I blindly fall about.

A steady hand is just a show.
A steady heart betrays
A heady feeling from below
Dissipates and fades.

Distance, time and lofty words
Can **** a man with strength,
But just one thought, one smile, one wink,
Can bring to life in length.

For lengthy is the depth of love
That like those oceans fill,
But even depth and distance stop,
And years can dull the thrill.

So in my words, forever be,
My love, my dove, for me.
While distance, time and quarrels fade,
You will thrive immortally.
July 2010
There is an open book upon the windowsill of my brain,
The rays singe a clarity across its blank pages
With a bonding so thick
So gripping on a memory unspoken of,
Undeniably ignored.
So clear and brown among the peace of paper,
a stain seeps through the creases of mistakes not erased. 
A windowsill of white,
stained dark color from the waste.
A book so pure
polluted with distaste.
A book so destroyed
cannot be replaced.
Copyright Christopher Rossi, 2010
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