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Caution, lost in the motion, The tender lapse of green sea waves The scent that has become you, Sweet, sweet summer rain. Like magnets, the polar pull, subsequent and building The silent seize of your stomach muscles Oh honeycomb. Wrapped in cellophane, and the fleece in our ears Your chin, the small hollow in which rests my head, The cradle of your Adam's apple. For hours I studied the color transmit in the darks of your eyes, Of subtle change and shade The soft, downy wool of your legs, Warm blankets rescued from the creaking loft. And your slow, sleeping breaths, of wind whistling through wheat fields Shared dreams of barefoot gardens, sweet peppers in springtime The gentle obstinacy of your fingers, Extended forward in the thaw of shallow slumber. The difference between oak and pine, This nest you constructed, we lay in. Nestled underneath the galaxy you installed, pin by pin.
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Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 2:58 PM UTC
Bunk Beds
Caution, lost in the motion, The tender lapse of green sea waves The scent that has become you, Sweet, sweet summer rain. Like magnets, the polar pull, subsequent and building The silent seize of your stomach muscles Oh honeycomb. Wrapped in cellophane, and the fleece in our ears Your chin, the small hollow in which rests my head, The cradle of your Adam's apple. For hours I studied the color transmit in the darks of your eyes, Of subtle change and shade The soft, downy wool of your legs, Warm blankets rescued from the creaking loft. And your slow, sleeping breaths, of wind whistling through wheat fields Shared dreams of barefoot gardens, sweet peppers in springtime The gentle obstinacy of your fingers, Extended forward in the thaw of shallow slumber. The difference between oak and pine, This nest you constructed, we lay in. Nestled underneath the galaxy you installed, pin by pin.
krissy-schiller
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Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 2:58 PM UTC
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