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 Sep 2013 SweetCindy
JM
Oh, darling
 Sep 2013 SweetCindy
JM
It is only at night I truly feel alive.
When shadows are thick
and the true movers
and shakers start
their business of
cleaning up our mess.

How heavy is your shadow?

I walk alone through most
of the *******.
Every now and then someone
tags along and it's always a blast
but then they go away
or I go away
and always I end
up with me.

I loved them
and
they killed me


I dream now of crossing
time and space with
a silver haired
beauty with big
Indian eyes and
a brand new spine.

We hold each other
close and new galaxies
are born with each
touch of our tongues.

We are Now

You are wet
and
I am hard
and
one day
our shadows will touch
and
then we will know
why we were
waiting.

*Breathe, darling
 Sep 2013 SweetCindy
JM
Late, thick with desire
Your voice, skin, smells, all absent.
Crawling in my mind.
 Sep 2013 SweetCindy
JM
Jerkoff
 Sep 2013 SweetCindy
JM
Tasting shadow and ash,
I crumble again.
The futility of it all is crushing.
The weight of centuries
grinds my bones to dust
as you stare out your window
at a thick dead sky.

*Why aren't you here?
Tell me
What you would say
If you just had
A few breaths left
Within your chest,
Tell me
What you would say
If you just had
A few beats left
Within your heart,
Tell me
All the things
You never said
When your pulse
Beat solid
And your lungs
Ran full tilt,
Tell me
Not
What I want
To hear,
But what
You wished
You could
Tell me
But didn't
Out of fear,
Tell me...
APAD13 - 107 © okpoet
10W
My opinion, Pink Floyd is more creative than the Beatles.
 Feb 2013 SweetCindy
JM
Searched for my virtue.
Wandered, found my vice instead.
Been there ever since.
 Feb 2013 SweetCindy
martin
.                Tea with the Pastor, milk and one lump
                    Visits get regular, leads to a ****
                    Soon no disguising the growing bump
                                He's in denial, quite the grump
                        Deserves a slap and accurate thump
                 Receives a doorstep greeting-card dump
                   Church congregation starting to slump
                       Bishop demands control your stump
                      Still he claims no sin with the "frump"
                             DNA evidence gives him a jump
                            Exposing a less than holy chump
                          Loving her child hers is the trump
The vicar he had a bride
Plus a bit on the side
He had to confess he'd made a big mess
And the best thing to do was hide
 Feb 2013 SweetCindy
Tom McCone
one day, you will fall out of my life,
and I will never smell such sweet smoke again.

the world will reclaim you, and make us
strangers, as we were born, once more;
and memory will never do you justice,
as your face becomes static.

you will not be a part of me, anymore,
just a faint echo I hear,
from time to time,
when I recall the concept of loss,
and all the time I waste, doing nothing.

one day, I will wake up,
and forget to remember
that I don't want to forget you,
the curvature of your lips,
or the way you try not to laugh,
and how it escapes, anyway;

it will be the same echo,
I slowly become deaf to, as my ears fail.

but, I don't want to lose you,
please.

I've already made too many strangers.
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