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For once I met someone as clumsy as me.
I am always falling.. Tripping even.
But I was too clumsy this time
and so were you.
You stumbled over my past,
And I fumbled into your mind.
I stepped into your soul
And you slipped into my life.
You tripped over my presence,
And we collapsed into each others' hearts.

I'm glad you're as clumsy as me.
 Feb 2013 Paul Andrews Jr
 Feb 2013 Paul Andrews Jr
This feeling flows
like an unobstructed stream
starting deep in my heart
and bubbling out
to my extremities
in it's purest form
saturates our words and laughter
and soon the room is soaking wet
as we dance and sing
taking hold of our youth
and our freedom
we are
drunk on
our love
and wine
we are
and in these moments
I am
nothing better than celebrating another year with friends
One: You were my first one.
You lied and cheated on me.
I ******* hate you.

Two: My favorite one.
I have the most fun with you.
I wish we ****** more.

Three: I just kept staring,
Your body is like a god’s.
You don’t work out though.

Four: You weren’t bad or good.
I forget your name sometimes.
It’s probably best.

Five: Terrible rhythm.
Our relationship’s weird.
Never again though.

Six: There was so much pain.
Bigger is not always great.
I miss Zeus a lot.

Seven: You’re just an *******.
I hope you catch something, ****.
Don’t call me again.

Eight: You were a stranger.
I don’t remember your face.
It was pretty bad.

Nine: I think I love you.
It cannot happen again.
Please keep rocking on.

Ten: You shave, oh thank you.
You look like Josh Caddy too.
Let’s **** again please.

Eleven: There was so much sweat.
I was kinkier than you.
Some of the best ***.

Twelve: You kept choking me.
The *** was pretty **** good.
Felt so high after.

Thirteen: Known you forever.
I like what we've got going.
Life is weird sometimes.

Fourteen: You stay by my side.
You love all of my faults too.
I'm in love with you.
The numbers are not part of the haikus. i had them posted as numericals first, but "1." kept disappearing and i didn't like it, so i decided to just write them out.
Vacant pictures captured through summer beneath my tiny dreams
Language is the love of raw skin
Play and  paint my lust
Together sordid shadows turn into rust
A thousand winds trudge sleepily into the goodness of my need
I’m greedy with madness and the urge to seed
Worship upon my knees
Urging the moon to stay out all night
With a luscious honey that drips
The rain can pound our skin
Wearing wings to this warm world as we feed
 Feb 2013 Paul Andrews Jr
How many
mistakes do
I grant myself
(c) Brooke Otto

— The End —