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Eve
Her body t’is my home,
upon white satin i lay.
She stitches me together,
with warmth and loving gay.
Gazing within her eyes,
reflections of forests and trees.
Fair tressles flowing fancy,
a smile that gives such tease.
And kind words she prays,
gentle, in a whisper.
On these lips i wait,
trembling but to kiss her.
May she never cleanse her cheek,
nor sadness upon her breast.
But love until that day,
held in her last caress.
 Sep 2013 taylor stephenson
Fah
Aligned moons trajectory

outline class , outline fueled melody of knights in plain clothes , we sing from the rivers edge in forest disclosed ...

into endless sphinx serenading the riddles to thine's heart ear
and the scarf , oh boy , have i seen a scarf

Snake tails eat themselves , it is only simple logic to be acquainted with the slivers of one's soul like light
that glimmers new hope unto battle fields of dead glory

i'm not sick - define for me , if you would - sick.
or disturbed , the darkness forges , like molten lava glow sticks...bio luminescence if i ever saw it.

darkness is light
up is down
riddles
exist in only planes mist

take a ride , if you dare

all hallows eve draws near.
and we draw closer to moon's full moon wonder.
written with friends at sides , and coffee shop blues....

blue cups yo.
 Sep 2013 taylor stephenson
john
**** This
**** writing
  **** poetry
   **** happiness
   **** prosperity
     **** ambition
      **** love
       **** greatness
        **** living
         **** fulfillment
          **** light
           **** good
            **** strength
             **** self control
              **** self preservation
               ******* for making me so weak
I don't remember what
movie we watched that
night but it was before we
got those christmas lights
and there was an airport
( I think). Your room was
a plum house, your bed,
on the right side of the room
against the wall, Why do I
remember knives? Were we
eating? This is what I do daily,
pilfer my own caverns for memories
and try to piece them together
but for the life of me I can't
remember what we were
watching.
(c) Brooke Otto

It's okay to not remember things.

— The End —