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Edmundo 3d
There is an old Endless River
Born of our soul
Son of our fear
Of forever being a drop of rain

What needs to change for you to be happy?
Even though you are its waters
Don’t jump in it
The river so bold

It never ends
It never begins
Its just there
Going anywhere - going far and wide

There is a cold Endless River
And it is called Desire
He was never desired
He just was, is and will be
Within us all
The stars are fake,
they are shinning upon the sky
And burning everything that touches their beam.

They desire a sand
and you are the hourglass.
Hunger eyes stared down at the rod,
                awaiting it's own ***** alee    
Laid on the satin sheets, arms entangled
                milky thighs spread apart
Hunger eyes too stared down at me
    laying in inescapable, trembling bondages
A heat burning through our hearts - through us:
                That was desire.

I love him like this -
       where stars align;
               Buttons undone. Eyes lit with a burning flame
waiting to engulf me whole.
Touching me here, there - everywhere
       tracing the freckles on my skin that lay like speckled stars
   to the lines on my palm. Memorising.
His mouth gilding across with a wicked purpose
      as urns of a thousand suns pour blazing down my throat
               Not us did the saint align and embrace our pure hearts
We were in the other's self the ruin
               of purity's gentle caress
where my hand rests at
               in between to ease the trembling core
our bodies lay in the dead of the night
           both of us searching for more
                to no one but him do I come to thee!
as a cry aches through the silence of the night
       our souls connect - one of each
lit for each other
        lost, weighed on each others palms;
      This was our desire
Dark Dream May 8
To dream of desire
Is to live again
Within a pit
Of not seeing
Some big picture
That might exist
On the other side
Of a green fence
mark soltero May 7
your skin creates peace inside me
creating wrinkles in time
i find myself constantly longing to feel you close
for us to create friction between gravity
our inertia to propel us into voids of pleasure
nothing between us is what i desire
but when you deny me
black holes devour me
crushing my guts into pulp
bleeding me with your rejection
i blend till i am nothing from what i began
the sea it slowly breathes.
my lungs quickly ebb & flow.
from far Moon has her say,
and in my ear your soft “Hello”.
A crowded café, bustling, boisterous, filled with jocular
talk and the ardent gossip of young men and women,
a salesman’s smarmy sincerity, and the deft, placid
intonations of desire over two cappuccinos with skim milk,

and she is there, in the corner, against the brick wall, sipping
unadorned Earl Grey, and then a zoom focus, her presence
enhanced, the room falls away, and the chatter quiets into a
cushioning white noise, background to the film he has constructed,

and with the leads filled, the location set, the supporting cast in place,
now, the script.
Harley Hucof Apr 29
I am gazing at a shining portrait as my desire is announced by distant bell chimes. I merge with the paint and feel absorbed into a different timeline.

In the painting, the wind carries a scent of a familiar tree assorted with the melody of its leaves. It all brings back the memory of a song that I love, that reminds me of a woman I met in a vision from a dream yet I don't know the language it is made of, nor I can sing it for I am dyslexic in the ear.

This is an illusion, I see it. Still, I deem it to be real, similar to a scene that I keep reliving as I wander the mystical golden desert, I wonder is fulfillment an insult or a compliment if attained outside the ordinary strains of sensual accomplishments?
Disconcerted by previous arrangements i think it through to realize this is an illusion is just a tattoo .

Words Of Harfouchism
CMXIClement Apr 28
One click, two clicks as they are locked within the chamber.
Trapped within themselves, stoking coals red hot with anger.


Kindness is a trinket, and people value it as much.
An ornament worth a look, but seldom worth a touch.

And now...

Sitting in this chamber, who I am remains unseen.
I could not cut enough to show what lies beneath.

And still...

I am who I am, and this world will not change me.
I will be who I am, this pain will not derange me.

And I wish...

I wish that all they saw was the color of my soul.
I wish my story mattered to them a bit more.

But now...

One click, two clicks with a hollow point in the chamber.
Freedom from myself, soaking walls blood red with anger.
To anyone that may read this, it's not a suicide note, just an "expressive" moment.
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