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The tea kettle whistles- I feel its relief. My own blood boiling so violently the tea is cold to me. Sipping steaming tea to cool my burning soul. Fighting- Preposterous preponderance- Witless whim-sickle wiles show styles of- Deceptive discrepancies in a cool calm quagmire of queries. Intensity subdued by ethos- Small pockets of heat erupting from mountains of flesh called- pores. Stores of tears dwelling, So subtly at the ready- corner of my eye. The ardor climbs- I cannot- contain. Listen to the steam- Scream from my ears. Finally time- pour me out.
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Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 3:30 AM UTC
Pour Me
The tea kettle whistles- I feel its relief. My own blood boiling so violently the tea is cold to me. Sipping steaming tea to cool my burning soul. Fighting- Preposterous preponderance- Witless whim-sickle wiles show styles of- Deceptive discrepancies in a cool calm quagmire of queries. Intensity subdued by ethos- Small pockets of heat erupting from mountains of flesh called- pores. Stores of tears dwelling, So subtly at the ready- corner of my eye. The ardor climbs- I cannot- contain. Listen to the steam- Scream from my ears. Finally time- pour me out.
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Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 3:30 AM UTC
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