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midnight-praguePoems
the vigor eases like a carcass meeting its soul mate gently brought down to the home all the wicked has been put to rest and smiles flourish like cherry blossoms in japan breeze brushes on the side of my sweaty neck strands of hair in swirls along my back .the incense burns. The smoke becomes an artist. it has kept my attention more than most people can somebody gives life someone is having it taken away dogs with cold feet, and felines who have too much courage when entering your world the present time, and how Sarah Palin is a ***** hopefully that construction on 595 will be done by the time I get back, and something good will happen to someone thoughts like that cross your mind when your on the ride looking out the window focused on all the things you cant touch humans who have turned into ants while trying to look for your house thoughts slowly fade as the ex lover comes to mind we have all tasted that wine. My glass is now empty. brewed ripe and sweet, with agony for an aftertaste I lick the sides. My lips are bruised with a charcoal red. I ask the pretty flight attendant for another glass.
0
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 6:28 AM UTC
The buzz and the getaway
the vigor eases like a carcass meeting its soul mate gently brought down to the home all the wicked has been put to rest and smiles flourish like cherry blossoms in japan breeze brushes on the side of my sweaty neck strands of hair in swirls along my back .the incense burns. The smoke becomes an artist. it has kept my attention more than most people can somebody gives life someone is having it taken away dogs with cold feet, and felines who have too much courage when entering your world the present time, and how Sarah Palin is a ***** hopefully that construction on 595 will be done by the time I get back, and something good will happen to someone thoughts like that cross your mind when your on the ride looking out the window focused on all the things you cant touch humans who have turned into ants while trying to look for your house thoughts slowly fade as the ex lover comes to mind we have all tasted that wine. My glass is now empty. brewed ripe and sweet, with agony for an aftertaste I lick the sides. My lips are bruised with a charcoal red. I ask the pretty flight attendant for another glass.
midnight-prague
Written by
midnight-prague
Greek
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 6:28 AM UTC
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