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how I know we will make love someday / primal2

whatever you think of overwhelming distance,
thick black lined international boundaries,
no Westerly wind, snow binding, winter blinding, can forbid
the innate desired connectivity, the eye locking messaging,
the shared shards of losses cumulative, that we alone can relieve/repair

I will travel by jetliner, car, to unpack you from snowdrifts,
write quatrains upon your eyes, elegies on your lips,
epic poems using every body space possess-able, asking for nothing
in return, for living is hard enough, no need for quid pro quo bargaining

do not ask what am I to you, resist classification, place me not,
no slot, no rowed field, under closed eyes remember, recall,
better the butter of love and loss, which I’ll take and also leave,
summer spreads and relishes kitchen canned for next year’s winter

did you know, of course not, my name is Mordecai,^ the same who,
was Vizier to Darius and Xerxes I, meaning pure myrrh and
master of languages, but this is not the time/place, my secrets two,
to give away, and yet forbear, you may ask questions that no sensible human answers

honestly

but I have, and will do so again, against all odds, we will
compose original numbers, all prime, all natural occurring,
divisible, yes, but  only by the number itself and the number 1,
1,
a number that answers:

the equation, the prime ideal,
why only 1 + 1 equals:

primal 2

~
it takes one to create two
^https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mordecai
Nat Lipstadt Sep 6
the first time we make love



your body will tremble, from behind, my arms’ will, to encase,
I, sponging up every tremor, shush-stealing each shuddering,
the outpouring of sounds will grow softly and steadying,
as gasps slow lessened, till the breathing is regularized.


you will sly ask for words, but I will come prepared and you,
will laugh when so informed, happy by my thoughtfulness,
wondering if they are being reused, and knowing this, I will
coax you to feed me morsels will I shall then embellish, proofs.

there is a first time in almost every aspect, but for one, which
you won’t refuse, forgiving my experiences, a history to become
now partly yours, the priors paying forward my debt to serve,
a gentling interplay of eyelashes *******, fingertip confessions
.

you will alternate tween fragility, regretful solitude, emptied but
then refilled, you’ll want to define, identify, label for storage and
reuse, classification for acceptance, thinking that will make this
moment lasting, but it won’t, but it will, last, under closed eyes.

when the need to sob returns, one or two may escape, unelicited,
but won’t go past that, you’ll hear me saying “Hello in there, hello,”^
and ten thousand skin cells will in unison firm gel a single sensory,
not a trick or strategy, an honor bestowed, medaled, molten medaled
.

that you were held captive, it will be a proud mark, for freedom only
comes from being released, and an anthem will start to form, words
all raw and wholly yours, then you will sing to me “good bye stranger,”^^ granting me a pardon, for being who I am, a wonderingly, somewhat familiar face...
^John Prine
^^ Sharon Robinson
Sometimes....
A smile of your's
Makes some one's day. ..
So why not smile
To make it their day ..
And a day good to you too
With the smile..

For
Smiles are ...
Invaluable visible treasures
That we hold to offer..
At cost free. ..
Meagan Marker Jun 17
Cold and crisp these sheets a perfect contrast to your warm milky white skin
Kept aflame by your pulse quickening
Each kiss getting closer and closer to my heaven
Let me see you? Let me relish your beauty before I take you?
Each curve a sloping hill I once danced upon as a child in my new shiny black shoes
But tonight my lips and tongue will take the lead

Your rose petal lips part like the red sea seeking reprieve from the tidal wave pulling you under
You seek oxygen but your moan turns me to wax
Melting into you
Black Jun 16
Should I be sad

For I love you
You could break me,
You could make me,
You could hurt me,
You can even play me.

Tho I love you even more,
I rendered my heart as a home at no cost,
I traded my happiness for you and My comfort for your pleasure,
My presence you'll crave for,
I trade my time to be with you, and My everything for your something,
At the end what do I get.

When i wake every night the words that ponder my mind are ...
Do I deserve to be happy?
Can good people ever get what they want?
Could i ever be loved the way I want to?

I stare at my blank wall and
All I could hear is my heart beat,
In an empty room as well as my mind,
Should I be sad? for that's the only words that runs down my spine ....
hey
Until I find am answer I'll never stop asking .
At the end all I can say is should I be sad
A poet
doesn't make poetry
to feed the imagination
It makes it
to speak like air
In reality, poetry can mean anything to anyone, but in order to make poetry as incredible as your idol, you must stop holding yourself towards those standards. Speak with your heart, not your mind, you're better than any idol out there.
Spooks May 6
I want to feel you so deep
a soul connection, inside me
I want to beg you for more
As you leave me ***** and sore
Your touch give me chills
and your finger, well it gives me thrills
Kiss my neck as you touch my body
As your hand slide down my side, don’t worry baby make it naughty
I love to feel you so deep
I love the way you make love to me
That is what makes legends interesting,
They either tell good stories
Or hear good histories.
Maria Etre Apr 21
For all the time I have lost being busy
the universe looked down
pause the world
and said,
"Go, make up for what's lost
"busy" was never considerate."
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