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Present day society can break my spirit but It can't  take away the freedom of my mind to able to live free there for there I'm untouchable and no one can touch

Though my wife Helen sadly gone but It to there where I keep her In my mind safely lock away from prying eyes
It Is only I that can look upon Helen beauty In my dreams and fantasies of

No one touches me but Helen
she's always been the only one for me In that no one else could, true love lasting love and through memory still my love for her will never die to strong was our love for each other as It was In life so shall It be In

Love cannot be destroyed but just gets stronger with the passing of time, for true love will go on for ever life come and life will go but love will continue on floating around out there we can't see It but Its there just waiting to be found
Love never dies but get stronger by the passing of time love Is the most powerful thing In the universe Its what keep us together
express 1h
Make love to me until i smell of you
for the next two days 
until i no longer feel hunger
Make love to me until I've forgotten English and begin to whisper words that have no meaning 
words that only the body of our minds can comprehend
whispering, weeping in a tone that sings the melody that only our spirits recognize 
the tune that ensures and secures the locks on our love 
safety, protection, harmony
Make love with me 
until i remember things you told me years ago 
years before I'd ever grabbed hold of your neck the way I do when you
Make love to me
a million times after the millionth time
this is our sacred dance around the holy fire 
the one that burns in the center of you
our sun, illuminating every step of our love ritual 
and in the background, the moonrise and her shine will overflow as the residual 
and that will suffice
in this performing art, we tiptoe
evident mastery 
in focus
gasping for more
I've got all of your attention
In this moment, we are perfect
effortlessly radiating our beauty
as a soul Union
Make love With me
How I miss the touch of her hand upon my body, to lay with her In my arms to kiss her nakedness to almost trembling through sheer excitement of seeing her undress before

She's drawing me Into her
Into her beautiful smooth warm body to feel the sensation of our nakedness
the smell of her perfume as our bodies come together In the pure ecstasy through making love

Kissing her lips her neck her ******* drawing her legs around me to feel her scratching my back with her nails through sheer excitement till both
would collapse In unbelievable pleasure

And then to lay In each other's arms with satisfying smiles on our faces than to
together Oh God I miss her so, to know I'll never share this again I can only relive through memory but at leased memory Is  not the end for me
Haunted by memories of In Incredible ******* with
Helen I know my memories are not exactly reliving but
then at least I no It not the end
for me
Does a paintbrush try and press itself? Or a fisherman cast to feel his own strength?


Likewise, does a moon know when its been idealized by the idealistic pen? Again and again.

Not likely.

Can you see through the colors of your own eyes? Or hear the kissing secrets of the wind on its lovers lips?

No, thankfully not.

And in choosing can you pull thought from mind? With an ease which sets you free to be taller than trees and freer than snow.

Sadly it is with me, when I say no.
How much fun it was to watch this one twist and turn. Yup.
Ellison Feb 10
It seems to me that
No matter what words I choose
And countless stanzas I use
I feel no different than how I did yesterday.

I feel torn, confused, and lost
Like any other ******* teenager out there
So, I thought poems could ventilate my fears
And somehow halt my internal flowing tears

But I was wrong.

It seems to me that
No matter what topics I discuss
Everybody I talk to turns the other way
As if I've got nothing important at all to say.

A friend, a foe, a love, a hate
Why should I think my words are great?
If everybody I write about dissolves in the end
Does it even matter if I care for the poems I tend?

It seems to me that
No matter what words I choose
And countless stanzas I use
I cannot artistically express that I'm done with poetry.
Words don't do justice anymore.
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2018
The world with the heart
is the most beautiful place.
Without it its a fish
out of the water.

The question is
to be or not to be
with the heart!
Your heartbeat is my favourite sound.
I can't get the rytham of your breathing out of my head.

To be close enough to hear this song is is a dream.

I only wish I could hear it just once!
she has many layers rapped around her
you must peel every layer ,
to reach her heart,
don't skip that part,
skipping will tear her apart,
love her every part,
heal her every scar...
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