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 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Anderson M
I want to sing you a ballad
As you choosily pick at your salad.
While at it wish you can hazard
A guess as to who’s mastered
The landscape and terrain
Of your voluptuous body with less mental strain
And painstaking care, noting every nook, cranny and vein
So it’s etched in the fabric of my brain.
The rose in my hand is wilting
I think it’s in supplication to the refreshing
Garden in your heart that’s bristling
With freshness and that’s not surprising.
As you enchant me with your spellbinding smile
Hope you can bob your head to my tune all the while.
Sparing some moments to mellow out.
...you write the TRUTH
nobody wants to
READ IT.



SøułSurvivør
(C) 8/1/2017
Written with a sad heart at 2:45am.

Going to bed now.
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
DblNickel
I've been reintroduced to the Night.
I saw him roll in from the east,
Bringing the deepest blue velvet to
Penetrate the cracks in the pavement.
Midas' touch undone.

The golden people unfastened their masks
And hang them in the sky.
Thoughts of their vices occupy their minds.
Resume the hunt.

The lonely ghosts blend into indigo shadows
But I see them nonetheless.
Solemn faces with glassy eyes,
A heart that pumps no blood.
No one offers what they truly want.
Resume the show.

The innocent, they rest in their beds,
While we inhale the breath of Night,
Intoxicate to liberate, quickly now!
Before the morning comes.
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
August
Ambient
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
August
We ride down streets I don't know
With Spanish rock on the stereo

The street lamps are strange shades
I close my eyes as everything fades

I think of all the things I want to be
All the women I could see

You can call me before I go to sleep
And I'll listen to your voice through my dreams
Amara Pendergraft
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