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White fizzy
moonlight
overflows.
Editors pick dated May 13, 2014    "Poetry circle.com"
Your luscious lips fervently seek mine and the time freezes,
the cosmic hum, the primordial love anthem is heard within us,

Your signature scent, perilously plays fiddle with my olfactory nerves,
a garden of love within me blooms, hear the sonorous drone of bees !

A web of silver threads from your eyes, makes me your captive,
stitches the insignia of our love in my heart with the touch of a feather.

On the back of my neck, your broken breath permeates ****** heat,
the hold around my waist,tells what your words couldn't spell out.
Opia. Noun. The ambiguous intensity of looking into someone's eyes, which can fell simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

As you lie in my arms, watching the television, you don't notice that my undivided attention is focused on you. Something I've been dreaming of for weeks, and it's finally come true. Even better, from your angle, you can't see me staring into your eyes, so I don't feel the nervous compulsion to turn away. Whether directly or not, I could drink in your eyes with mine, for hours, and they would be among the best hours of my life.
Then there's the other hand, held tightly by trepidation. I love the prospect of your eyes staring into mine, but it's not without its fears. I'm afraid you'll see all the pain and fears that I've spent the past seven years working to overcome. I'm afraid you'll see all the insecurity and doubts I have about myself. I'm afraid you'll see all the words that I long to whisper in your ear, but can't, because I'm terrified of scaring you away. I'm afraid you won't like the fact that, behind these eyes lies only pictures and thoughts of you. But most of all, I'm afraid that, unlike me, who loves every detail, and lives for moments like these, you won't love the things you see. I long for the day when you stare happily into my eyes, but I'm frightened that you won't enjoy the secrets they reveal.
Will I ever be the one
who gets to hold you tight
Will I ever be the one
to hear your last goodnight
Will I ever be the one
who’s hand you gladly take
Will I ever be the one
next to whom you wake
Will I ever be the one
that holds you when you cry
Will I ever be the one
that never hears goodbye
Will I ever be the one
to whom you give yourself
Will I ever be the one
in sickness and in health
Will I ever know the reason
that our paths were meant to cross
Will I ever know the gain
that is someone else’s loss

Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
http://twitter.com/athomashawkins
******* google plus.

I spent days deleting pictures of them off my phone.
Click update profile picture, and suddenly,
There's a beautiful girl standing at an ATM through a window covered in raindrops.
a little girl with smile wider han galaxies pulls the last jenga peice
Maybe I don't want to look at the three of us snuggled cozy smiling.
Maybe i don't want to see my old phones wallpaper.
That i changed to forget this happiness.
Maybe the hearth of that home burned ob these photographs.
On barbie doll soap opera ******
On match box car roller derbie.
On film strands ripped from the winding projectors of playground games and princess dresses and faces covered in cake.

******* google plus.
you didn't even ask if I wanted to save those memories.
or at least when you did, I had a different answer.
 Jan 2016 Siji S Ram
Rumi
Both light and shadow
are the dance of Love.

Love has no cause;
it is the astrolabe of God’s secrets.

Lover and Loving are inseparable
and timeless.



Although I may try to describe Love
when I experience it I am speechless.

Although I may try to write about Love
I am rendered helpless;
my pen breaks and the paper slips away
at the ineffable place
where Lover, Loving and Loved are one.



Every moment is made glorious
by the light of Love.
Please O' Lord
Don't let this consume me
This burning urge to do injustices
To violate her sheets
To desecrate her temple
God Almighty
What a beautiful temple you've made
Carved to perfection, it entices me
How can I resist this temptation?
She is my every craving
Tell me Dear Lord
Is it wrong for me to admire your art?
To gaze upon the bareness of her walls
Feel the thickness in her stature
And if So...
forgive me Father
For I can no longer restrain my hands
My tongue can't stay in its cage
My body can not be with out hers
She must be consumed by me
By My lust
~Corona Harris~

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