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The pockets of our blistering love catch me by surprise, all of a sudden. It’s the hum of someone typing, greasy hair pulled back, the whoosh of a card that looks like the one I unwrapped for you.

A couple ordering breakfast like they practiced in their sleep, dancing circles to fetch fresh juices and sign receipts. How many breakfasts did we share together? Baked goods and fried eggs fall flat in my mouth without your fingers nearby, nimbly untangling hair from my ears and swallowing the last bites without asking.

Thank you for sparing me all of the reasons why. They burn well enough left dripping inside my head.

This space makes a home for a lot of grieving. What brought the riproar of tears from my throat and eyes felt so old, like it had been living inside of my body for decades I haven’t seen.

What’s hysterical is historical, the wound has been waiting for this flush long before the snow fell. Your words rose from the dirt and bones and spoke to me the apology clutched in his dead hands. Nestled next to my little girl heart. Handed to me now with patience and flowers, like I have ever learned how to accept things that belong to me.
I have never met a woman
in whom I did not see beauty,
Though I’ve met so many women
whose own beauty they could not see.
And they were each one and the same.
And if I didn’t say otherwise,
I’d feel I was the one to blame.

I have never met a woman
that a good man could not adore,
Though I’ve met so many women
convinced they’re easy to ignore.
And they were each one and the same.
And if I didn’t show otherwise,
I’d feel I was the one to blame.

I have never met a woman
who did not radiate her light,
Though I’ve met so many women
who thought themselves as black as night.
And they were each one and the same.
And if I didn’t act otherwise,
I’d feel I was the one to blame.

I have never met a woman
for whom loving was not assured,
Though I’ve met so many women
despaired that love had not occurred.
And they were each one and the same.
And if I didn’t love both of them,
I’d feel I was the one to blame.
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Don’t you just want to hold him close to you? Or is it only me?
Look at those eyes, as bright as a polished diamond brightening the finger of an awaiting bride.  
You can’t look at them twice.
Holy ***! when I thought there was no perfection.  
Well mark these words, “he is perfect”.
If looks could be a symbol of heroism,
gift him the warrior’s lantern for he descends as a hero.

The beautiful smile drawing your lips into a curvy appreciating grin.  
A man in a goddess ensemble.
My eyes are heavenly blessed to behold such a testament.
Oh! That amazing voice, let he sing me amazing grace and I will amazingly be graceful.
Beautiful perfect lips moving from side to side whilst he speaks.  
The voice, violently drawing you down your knees.

Oh, sweet heavens, why curses with a saint of looks?
There exist no ounces of perfection enough to deserve his glorious presence.
And a gentleman too, goddess of my ancestors, what great temptation.  

Permit me to do nothing but sit to watch him speak.  
Perfection, the being brought to tempt my honour.
Daydreaming the movements and triggers tingling inside my untamed structure.
Reminiscing on what could, would and want with no sense of shame nor control.
My eyes dazzling without shame nor guilt.
Mesmerised and tempted to act in accordance to this electric pull.

Oh my ***!!!, My alarm goes off, please tell me it’s not a dream.
I wrote this poem at the age of 16.  That's a pretty long time ago. Of course, due to maturity,  I have had to update it but I still get the same buzz.  Enjoy!!!
I'm Pinocchio and when I lie, a certain part of my anatomy grows.
But I'm talking about my wiener, not my nose.
Women constantly beg me to lie.
But I can't do it even though I try.
When I talk to women, I can only tell the truth.
They become so angry that they hit the roof.
I'm a puppet who is made out of wood.
I can't keep a girlfriend and that's no good.
My latest girlfriend is very attractive and she's a stripper.
But I couldn't lie and she just threw me in a wood chipper.
When women dated me, it was always because of ****.
But I told the truth once too often and now I'm sawdust.
When I tell my friend you have a Resting ***** Face. What I mean to say is your face is your bulletproof vest that these one shot guys are scared to shoot their shot at. What I mean is I don't have to worry about you being caught in the teeth of some sharply dressed shark who is looking for his next meal. What I mean is the guys who are scared to break their streaks with girls they meet in a snap will rethink their next words before asking you to chat. I don't tell you have resting ***** face to bring you down a peg. I tell you this because the next wood block boy who tries to talk to you see's what I see. A intelligent young lady who won't be swept away by good looks and false momentum. A brick wall screen stopping any defender whose chasing down her future. I know if I see you with any proposition like guy I don't have to be on auto correct or grammar check him,  because if he's made it this far then he saw the beauty that’s underneath your skin and your Resting ***** Face.
about a friend
I did not have a chance to reach higher in studies,
I did not have a mama around to encourage me,
I did not have a baba to support me,
These are just the few courageous words I grew up with.

To realize they were words of wisdom,
To lift me up when I am down,
To raise my spirit and determination towards my goal,
Mama, my precious mama, I THANK you.

For all the troubles me and my siblings put you and baba through,
Not to say how many fights to hold our family tight,
How many things you had to sacrifice for us,
The tears,pain and sweat you hid from us,
Mama, my beautiful mama, I APPRECIATE you.

If it was not for your words,
If it was not for your smiles,
If it was not for your strength,
I would not have been the me that I am today,
Mama, my amazing mama, you are my HERO.

To the woman I have become,
To the values I hold thee,
To the morals you taught me,
To the lessons you schooled me,
Mama, my first LIFE teacher, I LOVE YOU.
Jul's 4d
I'm a woman that needs to be loved
I'm a woman with dreams & hopes
I'm a woman with love that wants to express
I'm a woman that won't back down in what I believe in
I'm a woman with desire
I'm a woman that is up for a challenge
I'm a woman with a lot of despair, and needs to go away
I'm a woman that has dreams and hopes filled with desire that's going to come true
I'm also a woman with desire that wants to express it in a way that makes me feel good
I'm a woman filled with love, but I wanna be with my love
        Written by Julie David
Put down the pizza
Put down your phone
You're now in Pisa
You're now in Rome

Blink once,  blink twice
Use your imagination
Secret agent in disguise
In Grand Central Station

You don't need to drink
To pretend you're free
Take your coat of mink
And ruminate with Dali

Put down your pen
Put down your fears
You are a hundred unique women
Separated only by years
They never spoke again,
I have waited a year and a half,
I have reached out time and again,
But there comes a time when enough is enough.

I cannot force them back into my life,
Cannot force them to utter just one more word,
I will always love them just the same,
But their silence causes so much pain.

It feels like a whole population died,
Been wiped clean off the Earth;
And knowing in reality so many think I lied,
Just makes me want to run away and hide.

I cannot do anymore than I have,
I have forgiven them for how they treated me,
I completely understand the culture, though its sad,
I cannot go back and change what happened to me.

I miss them dearly,
I think about them every day,
I think about the pain I caused them,
Now in my history they will forever stay.

I long to have contact with cousins,
Aunties, Uncles, and friends,
But I know this will never happen,
And I will likely never see them again.

Its all so mixed up in my mind,
The events that caused me to be singled out,
If id had the choice, I would have gone to court,
Because then I would have less doubts.

I am disturbed by memories,
And also by the suicidal hanging,
And knowing that my people,
See me at fault for everything.

It makes me feel ***** and ashamed,
That I, and the other women are still blamed,
And for what is it that we have done?
To be born as "women" is all we have done.

Kevin, Maisie, Clare, Anna,
Eileen, Rita, Peter, Barbara,
Candice, Kerry, Alex, Teeny,
Susan, Wendy, Dennis, and Jelly...

Those names are so very few
Of the huge number of relatives I have,
I still remember the day at the refuge,
When you turned me away - even that made me so sad.

If it were not for South African women,
Running the refuge out of sight out of mind,
Then there would be nowhere for Island women,
Nowhere to turn, yet these women were so kind.

But I know the rest of you still look down on me,
As you no doubt look down on many others,
And what did we do to deserve this?
To be born as women; in that you are so disgusted.

Disgusted with me for questioning abuse,
For speaking out for the others,
Disgusted that I have broken the "silence",
For women are not to be "free", I have discovered.

For if women are to be "free" - then they must be alone,
Discarded by all and everyone,
For "causing you pain",
For "shaming the Island's name".

I still love you -
And always will,
You hold a special place in my heart,
That no one else can fill.

.....I was born a woman - entering this World having already committed the crime....and for that I am sorry.
Random middle of the night piece.
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