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It's nearly our bedtime and you're asleep now,
you have been for hours--actually--just as I knew
you would be when you first lay down tangled
in a net of blankets, promising, "I won't, I won't"
with drowsy confidence after asked if you were going
to sleep. "I just want to lie down," your gentle hand
shooed me away. And so I went, leaving a light trail
of kisses so I could find my way back.
Oh Father Time, Father Time
He has children, named Life and Death
Every second, every rhyme,
They are giving and taking breaths.

Life and Death, these two
Has a Game to play
One plays to win me or you
One plays to have fun all day.

Who's gonna win?
Who's gonna win?
The one you have chose to go to
Where have you been?
Where have you been?
Doing what you're going to do.
Inspired by Louise Bryant's "The Game"
Will you lay with me
under trees so blue and skies so pink?

Our skin will be warm and the
wind will be sweet, and in our
hearts we'll know time is a fallacy

I could lose my way in your eyes,
so please let me let myself start
thinking in color and become full
of love again
work is steady, absorbsion as if the outside world is ended.    looking up find it has not.





stitching can be rhythmic, and never mind the capitals.             other words confound.



birds beat the window, damp now,                                       little feathers hoping for food.



now we  descend into darkness.



so you think i wear a cotton dress, while all round is storming,                      i do not.



i wear pyjamas.



sbm.
Neon signs and names on the marquee,
My heart breaks every step that I take,
Walking through these Vegas streets,
Will end alone wrapped in sheets

Blood drips from cut wrists,
I ball in the morning,
my clothes ripped,
*Is this all I am?
she held my heart within cupped hands,
caressing its leathered, crimson skin.
with fingers soft & swift
she peeled it layer by layer
littering the ground with rose petals.  

she loved me,
no
she loved me not.
Sitting under an ancient tree
surrounded by that decreasing degree
deep in his heart the six year old boy knew
it was going to rain
the sky has hinted with grey clouds
the birds have silenced as if
feeling the child's pain

He was lost in the jungle bush
not to give you a tremble
he was not in real danger apart from starvation
and attacks from all of creation
nothing major
He was supposed to be home by the beach for lunch

He sat there straining his ears for hope
and heard the faintest whisper
it was the sound of a rushing water
dad always said every beginning has an end
so does a river
The rain was coming
The wind was blowing
and the boy had drawn a plan in his mind
follow the river until the end
Run the river Outrun the rain

And like the Olympians warming up for a final
the boy splashed in the water feet all wet
all the while repeating the same words
Run the river Outrun the rain
by the time he reached the beach
The river did the rains job
The boy hung his head without looking up

On the beach was his grandfathers house
the boy looked at his scars from the run
and smiled he had tried to outrun the rain
he trod the beach weakly looking at the smoke
rising from the house
he caught a whiff of coconut milk heated in flames
The smile remained the stomach complained
oh The memories of Rivers and Rain
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