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(alternately known as the Doubting Thomas Crown
Taj Mahal Cupid Affair)
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Fortunate (for me) thee bona fide "FAKE" Cupid
(aka Decoy Donald Duck
and side kickstarter Jay Rad,
colluded donning one alias,
which (former and latter)

amounted tube bing disguised incognito
as the cingular "Ivan Ha Bea Robber Baron),"
while same above placed
their System Of A Down on high alert
whereby, they unwittingly, fortunately,
and accidentally discerned disquieting "noise"

i.e. static electronic crackling
purportedly from nemesis, asper sans above
whereby broadcasters colluded
confusingly, congruously, and convincingly
as thee infamous digital (duplicity)
faux "Big Mac" Trump.

The chalkboard scratching, hair sprayed bouffant,
and knuckle crackling
appeared tubby the handiwork cleverly disguised
(as tinpot dictator antics of Moscow's version,

sans Putin on the ritz),
which decrypted garble (a fluke) as iterated above
strongly emanating via polygamous,
prestigious, and pseudonymous
pull no punches ploy

innocently convincing feigned
duo code named "Ashley Madison and Bert"
disclosing (when uncovered),
a heartless conspiracy in concert

with Sesame Street studded lesser known Muppets
pretending tubby oil tycoon Bedouins
intent to fleece "sensitive"
top secret military defense contracts,

which Russian motley crue ace double agents
intended this act of espionage thence sabotage
feted as a Black Sabbath Lupercalia feint
not for the faint hearted clubby fete

where Cupid given free rule of the roost
allowing, enabling and proffering
Cyrillic chattering Cherubim

hook cooked United States "figurative goose"
lock, stock and barrel, which stratagem
captured president unawares
and did significantly boost

Eastern Bloc reconnaissance (on par
with the Philadelphia Eagles
winning 2018 Super Bowl LII
which surprise clenching championship
wrought frenzied hoopla, gala, and bacchanalia
where barenaked ladies

cavorted nsync with beastie boys,
whence City of Brotherly love hoopla found
nearly every man, woman and child ******
(analogous to each person garnering
an early Sainted Patrick's *** of gold.
Ayeshah Jan 2014
They say...
They say we accept & take the love
we think we deserve,

so in my past-
I must of,
not have thought,
felt or believed
I deserved
love at all.

Laying here,
I hold my pillow & think of the look
of your eyes,
plus the look in your eyes
the contour of your face
I see it in silhouettes,

when the rooms a bit dark & the suns
the sun's yet
to set that image of you hovering
over me & the crooked  grin
flashing your white teeth,

I think of those taunt muscle
straining
as you lift your self and look down at me
how firm and chiseled your whole form is...

You're sculpted out heaven's clay.

You're like a Greek tragedy,
where the man is spoken of as the hero,
but dies saving his lady-love,
differences is your so very much alive
next to me...

your body language say you want more of us
but your actions are in'congruously showing me
something else altogether , you're playing hard to get
but how's that when I already caught you?

I smell us in this room.

Feel you inside of me
and the look you're given me
tells me you want so much more
but how am I to give you so much,
when disappointments-
been a recurring friend?

They say we accept & take the love
we think we deserve,
we'll that's what
They Say!

Always Me Ayeshah ®
Copyright 1977 - Present ©
K.A.C.L.N ©
All right reserved ®
Vince Chul'Theg May 2017
Why do I deserve this?
How do I deserve this?
What did I do and in which
Lifetime that has lead to
Me receiving such prodigious love?

Your face beaming upward
Backward hat left ear bent

Your eyes scale my
Adam's apple
Chin
Bottom Lip
Top Lip
Philtrum
Tip of Nose
Bridge
Bottom Lash
Pupil locked

You smile
Then wink
In that way I said I hated
Because I thought it was cheap
And I'm glad I said that
Because now I love it
And the ****** expression
And words that follow
Every Single Time
"Sup?"

Can I read you a poem?

Our inside jokes
Build
Rigorously
Congruously
Correlationally
To our love,
Pesto.

But you already know that.

You inspire me
Blue flame fire in me
You will agree
To a large degree
Is on account of our
Souls' connectivity
Meant to be

My heart dances on the bridge
That connects tears of laughter
And tears of shear happiness and
Gratitude and as my heart swells
To rugby ball bloat
I ask: What am I going to do with you?
You say: Love me.

Well?
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I'm in love with you.

Pesto, let's go home.
duru akman Dec 2020
i’m longing for someone but I dont acknowledge whom for
still embracing that feeling as if the matter has always been about looking for
disponding desires smother in my head in season and out of season
and the endeavour for gathering them in tandem congruously
is going to astray slightly
that merely remains woolly

d.

— The End —