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What is it with this fatal attraction
For my soul that’s what it is
I have tried hard to ignore it
And not always give in

Erase you from my heart and mind
To be free from you at last
But every time you’re near
I simply have no chance

What is it about you
Keeps me wanting more
Your eyes mesmerize me
And pull me into your world

Your body makes my pulse race
I undress you with my eyes
I wish it were just physical
I’d have walked away by now

I love the way your mind works
Even if I don’t always understand
You make me think about things
That I never have before

The way you make me smile
And the way you make me laugh
Is just another of your facets
That keeps me coming back

I love the way you accept me
Like it’s ok to be myself
I let my guard down around you
And I take off my many masks

You seem to understand me
Even with all my many quirks
You even seem to tolerate me
When I’m acting like a *****

There’s so much more about you
That I just can’t find the words
To tell all the reasons
That you're driving me  berserk

That’s why I keep staring at you
With such passion in my eyes
You're my fatal attraction
And that I can’t deny.
gentle rain
....

listen, do not die here
in this shameful vanity
....
gentleness
-----------------------------------
the beach is lit by moonlight
go little child
there
.
i am on the shore
we shall make eyes that see
-----------
------------
the tyranny
the loveless country
.
gentle rain
......
now's the hour
for
YOU
to appear
.....
please appear
.
gentleness
.
little child
broken promises
i who have never, ever........(?)
-------------
SCREAM!
-
like a dawn
shot across the bow
of
consciousness!
ARE YOU AWAKE!
....
(dont die again!)
.................................
dont ever forget the god or goddess
that you are
-----------
......promise?......
....
hell surrounds us
what of that?
.
in a while
doom'll seem alright
Your smile
tastes of mint smoke.
It’s refreshing
against the taste of my tears
and the drink you gave me
to stop them.
Your eyes
trace their way down
my body
seeing
knowing
touching
every little sweet spot
long forgotten.
Your hands
melt into mine;
a connection revisited.
And for a moment
I see in your gaze
that (love lust longing) we shared.
I blink
and it is gone
in the moonlight
and blinking light
from your clock.
So I close my eyes
and let the smell of tobacco
in your hair
and the smile against my lips
bring me
to a dark connection
I know far too well.
We can be together.
Just one more time.
Just for tonight.
Your red tongues leap
with heated strokes
through puddles of
scorched air.  

Your arms shine
with shameless malice,
so to approach you,
no one dares.

You are wild.
You are pure.

You are dangerous.
There the poet lives  *                            
            Sunk in his own blissful depression and sorrow    
                       Protesting sobriety with gallons of liquor and hallucinogens                        

          *      There the poet sleeps*      
                           Dreams are made of reality beginning to fade                          
                                         A beautiful cacophony of syncopated Technicolor                                                      ­          

              *  There the poet sits
                       Writing and stringing together subjugated thoughts                    
                                    ­                                For someone to decipher and find further meanings for funding  

                                          *        There the poet listens

            Screeching birds like pterodactyls drilling his mind              
                                  Piercing the silent observations he desires  

              *         There the poet laments*    
                              Perched on the edge of the world                        
            Waiting for oblivion to come and save us all
'This is what
it feels like
to fall',
thought Alice.

'I suppose,
when I land
my feet will
hit first.'

'Maybe there
will be a cushion.'

'I shan't
want to
break my
legs.'
Copyright FHW, 2011
Concept credit goes to Lewis Carroll, author of Alice In Wonderland.
A.N: found in my orange notebook. Several months old. bit disturbing...really.
These are my hands
not yours.

You had them on loan
and I
am taking them back.

These were never;
your lips
your heart
your soul

But those were
your words

And now,
You've taken them
back too.
Copyright FHW, 2011

A.N: another  orange notebook find from several months hence.
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