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"enwrapped" poems
somewhere between the fourth and fifth load of laundry, sometime after breakfast~lunch, now served in the USA at home, as an all day meal, per the edict of Mcdonalds, start fixing dinner, take a break, walk to the mailbox, retrieve the post and quick retreat back inside, ah that Texas sun, bilingual chili hot, toss the unopened on the prior weeks pile, cause everyone loves company the home-cold-brewed ice coffee needs a filling for the fridge has decided not to help by automatically refilling the pitcher even if it could I, busy folding, needing two hands and all my teeth for folding my master’s rocket ship sheets my master observes with one of his alternating demeanors, this one, super silent watching, announcing that  I need a nap: *“don't you always say, baby, take a nap when you can, baby, for when you need one, baby, you probably won’t be able, my baby”* with selected-hand-led fingers, he lays me down to sleep, bids me to slow slide to dreamland, dinner will keep, curling inside my frame, hands a-cupping my *******   telling me a drowsy tale, inherited from his mother’s womb and his granddaddy’s tongue, mindful of his family’s history there, is where, they find us, dinner fixings burnt, me and my five year old baby boy, still sleeping fast, around 5pm, bodies enwrapped, tied by blood and entwined in old nursery rhymes, Texas tall tales of Pecos Bill, me and my very own nap-ster master <•> p.s.  and they call me by my other name to wake me, momma
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 1:14 PM UTC
Texas: My Very Own Nap-ster Master
somewhere between the fourth and fifth load of laundry, sometime after breakfast~lunch, now served in the USA at home, as an all day meal, per the edict of Mcdonalds, start fixing dinner, take a break, walk to the mailbox, retrieve the post and quick retreat back inside, ah that Texas sun, bilingual chili hot, toss the unopened on the prior weeks pile, cause everyone loves company the home-cold-brewed ice coffee needs a filling for the fridge has decided not to help by automatically refilling the pitcher even if it could I, busy folding, needing two hands and all my teeth for folding my master’s rocket ship sheets my master observes with one of his alternating demeanors, this one, super silent watching, announcing that  I need a nap: *“don't you always say, baby, take a nap when you can, baby, for when you need one, baby, you probably won’t be able, my baby”* with selected-hand-led fingers, he lays me down to sleep, bids me to slow slide to dreamland, dinner will keep, curling inside my frame, hands a-cupping my *******   telling me a drowsy tale, inherited from his mother’s womb and his granddaddy’s tongue, mindful of his family’s history there, is where, they find us, dinner fixings burnt, me and my five year old baby boy, still sleeping fast, around 5pm, bodies enwrapped, tied by blood and entwined in old nursery rhymes, Texas tall tales of Pecos Bill, me and my very own nap-ster master <•> p.s.  and they call me by my other name to wake me, momma
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41
Seek solace in solitude There’s a world of silence Mirrors the inner beauty A reflective mind ponders Enwrapped in the echoes The mantra of eternal truth Soul elevated to a stage Sweet harmony of realization Hymns of pure ecstasy Pours through the ears as honey Sweetening the existence Shimmering light is kindled An unusual radiance enthralls Meanings of life deciphered Gifted with moments of bliss
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 7:57 AM UTC
Solace in Solitude
sing me an aubade at beginning of aurora serene and mellifluous it's like a reverie, a felicity you soliloquize, so calm that it could be psithurism I hear the beating of your heart, like the sound of a watch enwrapped in cotton a summer's zephyr opens the balcony windows, so gently dust particles are dancing in the morning light and are slowly falling on the white bedding sheets do you smell the scent of our neighbor's citrus trees? 2 hours by car is Venice and I invite you to stay in the enchanted and narrow alleys with me
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Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 3:30 AM UTC
italian summer
DEAR MOM I AM HOMOPHOBIC Dear mother My guardian angel and protector Am afraid to tell you He was staring at me When i went to the loo His cold gaze pierced my back And his unblinking eyes sent jitters down my spine A creeping feeling enwrapped my whole being When i turned his charming stare held me prisoner and he smiled at me Mother i could feel his look perusing me like an art book From head to toe i was studied I felt naked as his hungry stare undressed me To him i was a piece of an apple pie I could make out gurgling sounds as he swallowed dry saliva and licked his death black lips Lust was painted all over his mane covered face Mom i was really scared I regretted stepping in that club When i returned to my seat he bought me beer My liqour thirst was hard to bear I betrayed my masculinity And accepted drink from a **** sapien of male fraternity My mind was having a cold war with my soul Wierd thoughts tormented my intoxicated body Where did i stand??? He welcomed himself in my table With a gecko like grin etched on his face "You are handsome"those were the ugliest words i had ever heard from a man My owl like eyes bore onto him with blazing anger dancing on my eyelids I was shaking not because i was cold but murdering instincts were elecrocuting my adrenaline He mistook my silence and commited a cardinal sin by placing his manicured hand on my thighs He winked as his blinking broke the speed record I cleared my throat and i knew it was time to recorn He thought his tactics had worked I withdrew my hand from my pocket raised beer bottle as if to toast He hastefully followed suit "Chee....he never finished as i bathed him with my beer "Hey ****** am straight"i yelped as i crushed the beer bottle on his thick skull I heard a deafening yell The rest i remember is being frog matched into a police car So dear mom its not my fault am in jail Am here because i fought Mom am not a law breaker Am here because i am homophobic
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Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 4:24 AM UTC
Mom IAM HOMOPHOBIC
DEAR MOM I AM HOMOPHOBIC Dear mother My guardian angel and protector Am afraid to tell you He was staring at me When i went to the loo His cold gaze pierced my back And his unblinking eyes sent jitters down my spine A creeping feeling enwrapped my whole being When i turned his charming stare held me prisoner and he smiled at me Mother i could feel his look perusing me like an art book From head to toe i was studied I felt naked as his hungry stare undressed me To him i was a piece of an apple pie I could make out gurgling sounds as he swallowed dry saliva and licked his death black lips Lust was painted all over his mane covered face Mom i was really scared I regretted stepping in that club When i returned to my seat he bought me beer My liqour thirst was hard to bear I betrayed my masculinity And accepted drink from a **** sapien of male fraternity My mind was having a cold war with my soul Wierd thoughts tormented my intoxicated body Where did i stand??? He welcomed himself in my table With a gecko like grin etched on his face "You are handsome"those were the ugliest words i had ever heard from a man My owl like eyes bore onto him with blazing anger dancing on my eyelids I was shaking not because i was cold but murdering instincts were elecrocuting my adrenaline He mistook my silence and commited a cardinal sin by placing his manicured hand on my thighs He winked as his blinking broke the speed record I cleared my throat and i knew it was time to recorn He thought his tactics had worked I withdrew my hand from my pocket raised beer bottle as if to toast He hastefully followed suit "Chee....he never finished as i bathed him with my beer "Hey ****** am straight"i yelped as i crushed the beer bottle on his thick skull I heard a deafening yell The rest i remember is being frog matched into a police car So dear mom its not my fault am in jail Am here because i fought Mom am not a law breaker Am here because i am homophobic
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44
A restless dream, that trapped me Like the icy blackness, enwrapped me I found myself cold and shaking With no way for my awaking Then he came, from out of the dark Stalked me like some demented shark Like a messenger of Death, to deliver I found myself afraid, felt myself shiver His eyes were red, his skin was snow white He gave no reflection, no sign of light When he spoke, his voice was like gravel I could feel this life of mine, unravel "I am the darkness within your dreams" "I am the nightmare of your screams" "I claim that which is mine, you know" "I come now, to collect your soul" I started to run, but then he was there, ahead This strange traveller, collecting the dead But why had he come for me if I was alive? Did he not realise I was left to survive? But a cruel irony can be twisted fate You do not know when it is too late As he claimed me, I started to weep I did not know, I died in my sleep So I walk with him, for eternal torment Never to awaken from this moment As into Deaths' dormain I am cast Knowing now, I have dreamt my last
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Sep 28, 2010
Sep 28, 2010 at 4:10 PM UTC
310: One Last Gothic Dream
~for the inestimable and yet, so oft underestimated, Lori Jones McCaffery ~ *"That was beautiful and I lived it with you." ^ tell-me, tell-me, he whispers so only ***** can hear: is there anything more, a simple poet could ask for, but an admission of someone revealing that your words, inculcated, enwrapped, flowered within, then carried them to you, and you to them? to sit beside me, on my unpillowed weathered throne, and imagine them imagining through eyes that read, shared your overflowing joyous insights of the outside domain, your sadness glorious at the end of a summer where you rediscovered, un~purposed, a mindfulness, from the early morning sun beams stinging you alive that together ***** the air from lungs exhaling, and this very breathe is the synapse of an actual consummation, transmigrating, transmuting, transforming a kindred soul to kin how glorious! no, there is nothing greater, but to ask: my dear, can you feel, taste my salted tears, Lori, as I kiss each of your hands for becoming/making/cresting & creating a bond of us?
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Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 10:10 AM UTC
For LJM: "That was beautiful and I lived it with you."
A sallowest silence drips, drop  by  drop, into open muddy palms The ripple in the gathering cup of hand, undulates within soul like poignant ocean waves eat away at the sands of time , just  below  where a lighthouse beacon beckons shining from someplace I can’t find A hidden pathway lies  untrodden beneath a thousand dew drop clad ferns , fronds bestrewn with autumn’s befallen sleight of hand swaddled in her fading manifest guise Where wild mushrooms rise  blindly  from resplendent darkness beneath silken earthen moss , to teach the parables , how fleeting a moment passes The moment enwrapped in nature's solicitude , the  only  shelter mother nature's own refugees whom dwell in an ever fugitive sense of belonging Fallen Lichen scattered like  wild  feathers , traces from a higher ground ; sown bread crumbs of  the  heavens , abandoned like slowly falling snowflakes upon a labyrinth coursing    beyond emerald dank bejewel Leading me willingly onward beyond belated familiarity , exiled  void  of  affinity a Trumpeter swan in search of wapatos The stone cold silent languor rises  up  through thickly grasping moss Wind  stirs the ennui with a breath of kindness , chilling a body in a soul as cold as lonely stone , sheathed beneath its hard yet fragile disguise A twisted pathway leading  somewhere   I  yearn to follow ; somewhere unknown beckoning  from deeply hidden hope and its urgent calling Somehow the uncertainty of the path I am drawn makes   me   feel a  little  less  removed Assured by the gentle touch deeply rooted ancient earthen spirits , beyond doubt , I’m never alone deep beyond wooded margin Cocooned in creation’s sanctuary mother nature’s own refugee ...                                                           wild is the wind
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Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
Nature's own refugee
A sallowest silence drips, drop  by  drop, into open muddy palms The ripple in the gathering cup of hand, undulates within soul like poignant ocean waves eat away at the sands of time , just  below  where a lighthouse beacon beckons shining from someplace I can’t find A hidden pathway lies  untrodden beneath a thousand dew drop clad ferns , fronds bestrewn with autumn’s befallen sleight of hand swaddled in her fading manifest guise Where wild mushrooms rise  blindly  from resplendent darkness beneath silken earthen moss , to teach the parables , how fleeting a moment passes The moment enwrapped in nature's solicitude , the  only  shelter mother nature's own refugees whom dwell in an ever fugitive sense of belonging Fallen Lichen scattered like  wild  feathers , traces from a higher ground ; sown bread crumbs of  the  heavens , abandoned like slowly falling snowflakes upon a labyrinth coursing    beyond emerald dank bejewel Leading me willingly onward beyond belated familiarity , exiled  void  of  affinity a Trumpeter swan in search of wapatos The stone cold silent languor rises  up  through thickly grasping moss Wind  stirs the ennui with a breath of kindness , chilling a body in a soul as cold as lonely stone , sheathed beneath its hard yet fragile disguise A twisted pathway leading  somewhere   I  yearn to follow ; somewhere unknown beckoning  from deeply hidden hope and its urgent calling Somehow the uncertainty of the path I am drawn makes   me   feel a  little  less  removed Assured by the gentle touch deeply rooted ancient earthen spirits , beyond doubt , I’m never alone deep beyond wooded margin Cocooned in creation’s sanctuary mother nature’s own refugee ...                                                           wild is the wind
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71
I miss the rush ov blood     each orgiastic slip Leading to Hot Skin Pressed. Burning against me. enwrapped. I want it so This suffocation Will drag you under With delight A filthy ache Blissful Annihilation Between her thighs With sweetness Claw and tooth wild desire Her eyes on mine (piercing my heart). Urging me With stinging tongue       and gasoline.     upon the flames.
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Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 9:05 PM UTC
Pyre
Waiting a charade for a lifetime, that does not cease to breathe or reap, that merely glutted. Gloating away in chagrins of Purple apples and Silver grapes. Enwrapped, uncertain, and detached there's no more thread to be broken any more on the sweaty rope that my life hangs onto.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
Poisonous Blemished Apples and Silvery Grape Highs
I like the way she holds my arm when walking… up high, under the shoulder, firm grasp on muscle, feeling the blood beat acoustically, in joy, sensually sensing a thrumming thrombosis messaging, this is a full bodied animation, liquid life, “strong to drink” “strength to break off pieces and keep,” a supporting mutuel pillar column post, given, taken, entrapped, enwrapped, ensnared, and enshrined, mighty fine feeling “indeed” pieces to mine, pieces of mine her taking is acceptable my taking reciprocal for her needs fulfill, I, walk taller, straighter, in fuller strides, and when she stumbles in the obstacle course of nyc crack-ed sidewalkslop, her whoosh of breath expelled when saved by the arm firmament, goes unremarked, for this is my purposed occupation and the occlusion of our skin cells in tight bandwidth is certification that our love is so much more than mere skin deep, or as she so oft summarizes, life is, “indeed,” or in deed. olp
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Mar 22, 2024
Mar 22, 2024 at 11:21 PM UTC
I like the way she holds my arm when walking...
I want to tear you away from the clouds From the ballfields way away from here To scream right at your face in violins And swelling horns and drums crashing Choirs crying out a deafening triumph! You would be blinded by your own tears And your smile would light up this passage of time Galaxies would burst open with our hesitation We come closer and closer, clouds explode Three suns are yours, eyes and mouth Enwrapped in snow, we'd clasp and dig holes In each other's backs. I want to grab hold of your ribcage I want to open my door and fly under six feet At the force of your body totaling mine Your lips breaking my teeth Our tongues tied. Bones bleeding into one another Color receding... Your initials in the sky Title biting Fall into my chest... Seraph, succubus, Everclear angel.
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 2:00 PM UTC
Everclear Angel
You breathe the word of love You show me the reason to live When you said those three words, my heart enwrapped to yours and boy, I'm sired you're my one desire
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Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 3:06 AM UTC
ebullient love
It sounds the same veiled in mists Or brightened with an embrace Marking the star for looking back Within a moonlight dream My spirit smiles and says “What else” To the bravest man in battle When all I want is to rest Within a rosy flush In all the conflict I am enwrapped The deeds, which I abhor Where is the parade of joy I seek That I wish to call my own Whose invitation or thoughts of flight Satisfy me when I am alone When I am content to be like a flower In all of my brightest days Through all that I have gone through The colors with which I am stained Why can I not subdue my spirit For these dreams of rest
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Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 7:54 PM UTC
What Else
Couples holding hands and talking New love so divine Looking into each other’s eyes, laughing Feeling stupid excited, yes in love My darling and my precious Can’t restrain this passion for you The closer I am the better Keeping you in my heart is simple…. I don’t have to, you are my heart Soul and everything I am Suddenly I’m awakened by your fresh perfume Grazes my nostrils and my pulse races I hold you in my vision as I pace the floor I need to have my arms around you It’s impossible not to touch you My only salvation is skin on skin Electric and dreamy taking me high First time I did it I died Died to have you near me for ever Clearly my being is affected constantly I’ve lost control but I keep calm Looking into the sun my squinting eyes will never See anything as bright and beautiful Images of you perform dances in front of my mind The streaming sound of your voice Caresses me and keeps my body enwrapped No more feelings of despair Only deep satisfaction and contentment Failing light is no barrier to your bright eyes Then, moonlight fingers over the wall You hold my hand and gently keep me near The warmth of you stirs me tenderly Your eyelashes flicker as you look toward me As a smile moves across your lips, I melt. Stretching, I keep my left hand on your shoulder The smoothness of your body excites me My eyes catch yours as we hold so tightly Mondays and every day is amazing Just as I am in you, you are in me Dewy eyes send tears to meet our upturned lips Keeping our love within us safe and sound.
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Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 12:25 PM UTC
As it is
Couples holding hands and talking New love so divine Looking into each other’s eyes, laughing Feeling stupid excited, yes in love My darling and my precious Can’t restrain this passion for you The closer I am the better Keeping you in my heart is simple…. I don’t have to, you are my heart Soul and everything I am Suddenly I’m awakened by your fresh perfume Grazes my nostrils and my pulse races I hold you in my vision as I pace the floor I need to have my arms around you It’s impossible not to touch you My only salvation is skin on skin Electric and dreamy taking me high First time I did it I died Died to have you near me for ever Clearly my being is affected constantly I’ve lost control but I keep calm Looking into the sun my squinting eyes will never See anything as bright and beautiful Images of you perform dances in front of my mind The streaming sound of your voice Caresses me and keeps my body enwrapped No more feelings of despair Only deep satisfaction and contentment Failing light is no barrier to your bright eyes Then, moonlight fingers over the wall You hold my hand and gently keep me near The warmth of you stirs me tenderly Your eyelashes flicker as you look toward me As a smile moves across your lips, I melt. Stretching, I keep my left hand on your shoulder The smoothness of your body excites me My eyes catch yours as we hold so tightly Mondays and every day is amazing Just as I am in you, you are in me Dewy eyes send tears to meet our upturned lips Keeping our love within us safe and sound.
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41
(STRANGE, BUT TRUE) Love Shifting through dark channels And illuminated signs Sounds Shifting through Cubic's power amplifiers Human walking angles Tactic direction changing rhythmically Variances Transfixed steps Breaking the long loud silence On human tongues Hopes Owing to the existence Of silver enwrapped surrounding hot stars And hot feelings Unavoidably reflected upward Appearing just as a lightning bolt Or like a peculiarly fierce faithfulness Gray clouds Dropping their snow bracer Ringing bells Dropping their sad resonance In death For love.
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Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 9:27 AM UTC
The city
The rising moon and setting sun share A private dance in the magenta sky Late in September, high abone the newborn river Overgrown with ivy and nettles and other creeping things The desert toads sing serenades to silence The wren the rabbit, and the dove conduct a nervous waltz Ever watchfull for the hawk and the owl, eager to cut in The endless tango of life and death electrifies the air On the hill, saguaros raise their arms to heaven To worship the sun in their ancient ways Bellow, by the river's edge a playful breeze Sends bronze leaves to pirouette through fairy corridors. Tall trees take root about the timid estuary Enwrapped by sun baked stone and wreathed by mountains The desert and the river Dance together in the sweet autumn air.
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Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
The dancers
Tis not in commitment To love that warrants beauty, For fickle a girl beauty is indeed, not to be bent By sorrow and pain filled gazers and dandies, Eyes gleaming in fleeting hope, without sense, That their smiles, enwrapped and dependent, Will have recompense By her gaze, resplendent, And perhaps, if in good favor, Have admiration bestowed on them amorously. But nay, beauty is a fickle girl. Alas, we love her. So as the breeze sings melancholy, And the leaves reflect her lips of flame, As milky clouds remind of her skin, When her hair is night, dark and sleek, putting others to shame, Filled with expectation And apparitions of loveliness, I think of the sweet longing, Hoping for the moment not to pass. The sweet longing I loved then, For a moment, Lingering in the agony of emotion, In a short eternity that I underwent. I then found beauty. But then the lights were no longer low, The emotions, so resplendent in ardor, escaped me. The façade was gone after the show. Nay tis not in commitment to serve Love that hold beauty. Tis in the memory of nerve, Tumultuous as a stormy sea. Tis in the very slow-grown enthrallment Of her melodious voice. Tis in the memory of through what my heart went When I told it to her by my choice. When I told how it was stolen by her raven hair, By her star-drenched skin, By her cherry lips at which I’d stare, And the voice so in apprehension, rife with emotion from within. Tis not in the resolution itself Of intricate harmonies and dissonances, So pleasing to the ear in their discord and wealth, But in the expectations and resonances Of this ecstasy, That resides beauty, Which is why I told her my love and melancholy, Letting her forget, and proceeding to flee. For the wonderful nostalgic memory Of the shortness of breath, Would by intimacy, Certainly be put to death.
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Nov 6, 2011
Nov 6, 2011 at 9:11 PM UTC
Resonances
Tis not in commitment To love that warrants beauty, For fickle a girl beauty is indeed, not to be bent By sorrow and pain filled gazers and dandies, Eyes gleaming in fleeting hope, without sense, That their smiles, enwrapped and dependent, Will have recompense By her gaze, resplendent, And perhaps, if in good favor, Have admiration bestowed on them amorously. But nay, beauty is a fickle girl. Alas, we love her. So as the breeze sings melancholy, And the leaves reflect her lips of flame, As milky clouds remind of her skin, When her hair is night, dark and sleek, putting others to shame, Filled with expectation And apparitions of loveliness, I think of the sweet longing, Hoping for the moment not to pass. The sweet longing I loved then, For a moment, Lingering in the agony of emotion, In a short eternity that I underwent. I then found beauty. But then the lights were no longer low, The emotions, so resplendent in ardor, escaped me. The façade was gone after the show. Nay tis not in commitment to serve Love that hold beauty. Tis in the memory of nerve, Tumultuous as a stormy sea. Tis in the very slow-grown enthrallment Of her melodious voice. Tis in the memory of through what my heart went When I told it to her by my choice. When I told how it was stolen by her raven hair, By her star-drenched skin, By her cherry lips at which I’d stare, And the voice so in apprehension, rife with emotion from within. Tis not in the resolution itself Of intricate harmonies and dissonances, So pleasing to the ear in their discord and wealth, But in the expectations and resonances Of this ecstasy, That resides beauty, Which is why I told her my love and melancholy, Letting her forget, and proceeding to flee. For the wonderful nostalgic memory Of the shortness of breath, Would by intimacy, Certainly be put to death.
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52
*Love’s quiet reminiscing Hearts quiver with eagerness   Every distance conquerable Enwrapped in an eternal bind*
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
Love is...
Within the warmness of your soul I found my comfort.... Forever I will sing a joyous song to my creator for his passionate mercy for setting me free when his tender hands gently pushed me into your brilliant aura that has bathed me within the warmest of love. I only wish to swim within the thoughts of your euphoric happiness. forever enwrapped within the steady waves of your euphoria never wanting to die praying to live forever.....
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
"The Ocean of Your Love"
how I wish to find myself enwrapped in the euphonious resonance of a symphony to allow the sweet sounds to encompass their harmonies around my hand and guide it into yours z.m.
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Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 1:35 AM UTC
hands
you enwrapped me with your big smile breathless I am a defeated witch why oh why did God make you so beautiful © Marialenn 2014 31/05/2014
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 5:29 AM UTC
Bewitched
enwrapped in ornate flush are seven colors of rain bear me in your memory behold this little pain to blurry shades of sky we'll throw our stars again but pangs of sooty love watch them few remain from prisons of solitude although perhaps in vain just hint me through this cloud in tears my love remain through burning dreams at night and fiery shadows lain bear me in your heart behold this little pain
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Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
burning dreams
When you stroke my forehead and brush my hair with your fingers gently and bask my head in to your bare laps, You whisper your breath along with the stories of mundane effervescence, you don't sing the lullaby either, I would just slip serenely into the sleep... and it badinages you for having seen my eyes enwrapped to unravel the otherworldly.. Then the chortle spreads across your chin and your forehead enfolds pondering the love, You lift my head from your lap and replace it with the pillow and It causes a little turbulence in my body which recognizes the difference between your lap and pillow.. Gently you pat my chest like the mother dabs the child.. and with my heart sentient the transience of your palm, I am transposed again to the silted life......(dreams)
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Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
Enwrapped in love.
Everything you say and do Seems to hit a chord deep inside My words break your heart Like whispers of honey bees Floating round the flowers Taking the pollen and the goodness To make something beautiful Is this how you feel about me? When my words create a world of wonder A place of sanctuary To fulfil your dreams each night The longing and despair Am I right in saying Is because I'm not there? So how would you take it? If I said I've fallen in love with you Would you be real or fake it? Could you say you love me too? If I had to start over again I'd want it to be in your arms I want to be your everything Enwrapped in your tender loving charms
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Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC
Fallen