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Alex DeLarge Oct 2013
I hope you forgive my abrupt interjection, but, I cannot shy away from your divinity.
Simply put: my knees buckle under your presence.
Something odd with the display of my affinity.

You're that complete package, a rare item, awesome.
Caution: unwrap with care, choking hazard with small items.
Yeah, I read the warning signs, the garbage is usually where I toss 'em.

That smile. Those flashes of white.
The sight, those glazzies, sharp without regard.
Like you see my soul and talk to it without fright.

Which, to me, is an achievement beyond comprehension.
My reflection: an ominous droog staring back working at working at sharpening the lines.
My disbelief in your presence sits comfortable on this rigid suspension.  

I know this might be a fruitless endeavor, a **** in the wind, pennies against dimes,
Fine. But I'm a ******* for this closed-fist brutality that comes off your lips.
I'll crawl into fetal before letting you walk away from the rhymes.

If I'm not enough to catch the radiation of your burn, I don't know who is,
Truth is, if I could spend a day without a thought of you then I guess you win.
But I bet I'm running across your mind right now, and I'll never tire until I indulge in this fool's bliss.

Why am I doing this?...
ERR Jan 2012
I met a lover, once
In a diner where the mud was strong
Everyone was honey, and heart attacks were delicious
He gave her a bag filled with
Her favorites, and drizzles of lexicon
(She was the only script he ever burned)
Not a word was returned
But her chatoyant glazzies watered
And he swore for
A moment
She loved him back
Disproportionate, I thought, to the months he'd spent
Planning a tribute for her origin day
Less than I spent on his remembered name
As it trickled down a dampened page
Runny, like he hated his eggs (a shame)
I sipped my mud and wondered
Why do men love rope

— The End —