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Spicy Digits Sep 15
Beautiful Ugliness
Untamed Hair
Stained Fingers
Trace Spirits In The Air
Peek Past The Shroud
Peel Off Pretty
Feast Dementedly
On Grit And Giddy
Spicy Digits Sep 8
Invasive
Immigrant
Unwanted
Bushes belligerent
Spray them
Slay them
Spreading banks
Nature's mayhem
Hate them
We hate them
Berries kept
But the rest
We destroy.

Them, them, them.
Spicy Digits Sep 8
I sit there listening
To heroes
Recite poems of rage,
Unapologetic.
Poems of candour,
Their love
And the pits they
Broke their leg in.
I smile.
My mentors, long
Needed and equally
Refreshing.
I am home.
I am home among them.
These soft, fierce
Humans,
These women.
Wasting no time in
Theatrics and small talk.
With ankles of steel
Forged with a pen.
Their glints of menace
Swathed in flavourful
Humour.
Lives, in earnest,
Transmuted.
No longer muted.
Never muted.

I will find you all
And soak you in.
Spicy Digits Sep 3
Our daddy,
Who's name is Kevin
Shallow is thy shame
Thy kingdom, ***.
Thy will is numb,
On earth,
As it is never questioned.
Give us this due pay,
And daily ****** fed.
And forgive us our trespasses,
Just as you protect those
Who trespass against us.
And breed us not into occupation
But deliver **** from elbow.
For mine is the ******,
The power,
And the history,
Forever and ever.
Avenge.
Spicy Digits Sep 3
I am boy
          I am girl
I am neither
          But her toy
Drag me rigid
          Along your rigid
I am hot
          From your spirit
Digits
          Count me in now
I am play
          I am want
I am centre,
          You are front.
Spicy Digits Sep 3
Who's guttural laugh is this?
Who's voice with
No sorry's left?

Who is this animal
Who lays out their words
In mosaic rapture?

Sometimes shaking,
Reshaping, reshapened

Who's are these?
And these?
And these?

Bitten hands biting,
Who are they fighting?
Curiosity *******,
Rage romancing

Who's face is this
Who's arms,
who's wide legs
of audacity spread?
Spicy Digits Sep 3
I think I like them,
Dare I say 'love'?
Is that allowed,
Is that arrogant?
The way they think
The depths and dark
Their endless analysis
Their lone laugh.
God, the eyes...
Sometimes cheeky,
Sometimes blank
Stone-blue grief chasms
Flecks of menacing.
Im confronted
And comforted.
They stir me like
I've stirred them,
Both in survival
And in good will.
The way they talk with
Their hands, freed,
The way they cry
Whenever the need.
I like them, I think.
Hearing their wit
Tranquilising wisdom,
I want more and more.

Can you write me?
Can you write me a poem?
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