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your hair and your eyes
your legs don’t lie
and i want to lie with you
and become as bright as the night sky
during the full moon
why did you let me go so soon
release this bruised fruit
and treat it like a concubine
i am suspended, upended
and redder than a parachute
perpetual disarmament
you were heaven sent
to bless me with your cinnamon
residual defenses kept us against our fences
the west and east were against us
we were hesitant and defenseless
dreaming of distant measurements
was it self imprisonment
or did we break our agreements
to dampen our retirement plans
in order to once again
stand firm on solid ground
are we land bound or land-locked
your eyes are like steam rising from a tea cup
houses for rent where men and women are targets
they demand steamy dreams and cigarettes
i say forsake the ice cream and frozen yogurt
instead quickly sell me your shadow
every now and then i remember our covenant
as sand castles made from foam fade as fast or faster
as you are known to dress in overcoats and sandals
send me you scarves and i’ll bind them to me
and make a ladder out of love’s fabric
and we will descend from the heavens again
to worship men and women
who need wisdom far more than bread
our aching hearts taste like fire
and these coals are the stars
that we have not yet tread upon
the value in self denial
is the fact there is a self

the expansion of heart
making room for love
Moons midnight glow
lures me with silver beams
to a landscape of dreams.

Eye lids, heavy in speedy fashion.
Ears attune to night birds,
vibrating ready to rock tired bones.

Stage is set for fairies to enter
sanctuary of bedroom
armed with sleep arrows
to drift my etheric body
to a peaceful land.
A place void of sadness.
Void of grief.
A fairyland,
where love is echoed
between the trees
and mind has a chance to play.
Inspired by Brianna Love
Thank you I recognize your talent.
The circus has come to town in mind
with acrobatics and jovial clowns.
With feats to amuse.
With dance that plays to heart song.

Feats to launch my creativity
as I march in path
with inner child,
Joyful and free.
of an innate perception
the squawking hawk's morning cry
he felt rain within his veins
arriving by night
a sole butterfly
lightly pirouettes around
the floral garden
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