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Oct 2017

**** my soul
        with poetry
           scream out my gracious name
             slay me with words
               that peel my layers
                and simultaneously
                                   drive me

finger me slowly, hotly
with just the right rhythm and rhyme
    push me past my
                 tender limits
                       into tongues of syntax,

a­lliterate my senses
   (in swift stac
until my mind is but blank verse
    mess up my stressed
              and unstressed syllables
in unsung language, versed

I will speak to you in vowels
(the only sound
       I will be able to make)
as you stroke
   my iambic pentameter
             in the heat of frothed-up

we are this heroic couplet, you see
        even if the meaning seems veiled
           no need for simile or metaphor
               as I feel your chest rise
                              in deep inhale

we are a natural paradox
       so many ironies abound
         discordant harmony
is our synaesthesia
     in visible darkness found

and I love this delicious enjambment
as your aura invisibly slips
                               into mine
our lines have no beginning,
                                 no end
    as we undo
          the boundaries
                      of time
synaesthesia-The production of a sense impression relating to one sense or part of the body by stimulation of another sense or part of the body.

(in verse) the continuation of a sentence without a pause beyond the end of a line, couplet, or stanza.
Lora Lee
Written by
Lora Lee
         ConnectHook, Jayne E, Yhinyhin Tan, Surbhi Dadhich, Fix and 169 others
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