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"infantly" poems
Sit naked Like children matting the lives they may never have Pit patting innocence on the floor With tiny, ***** feet. Simplicity in the curve of her bottom And the writhe her legs give me Infantly pleased to see me Heroicly ignoring the bitterness of an espresso We can sit together, one day And chime on our shields She can play me music And I can draw her worlds And toggle life from death Switch from fight to flee While she makes melodies That answer to my name Just my funny name I can't imagine Anymore Crisps think less Chips have been sectioned Never knowing,never fearing As something so unlike myself
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Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
Living Wriggling
Naked tree Infant being Dew on ancient veins And all nocturne Hush The winter city does not speak It creaks It moans It whispers Rasping yet calm From deep within its Immense grey nothing Of a childlike ****** Oft from the away Of the deep, dark, warm blooded secrets of a cure Come now, blizzard Snow or dust Infinitesimal and wise We’ve hung our wounds out We will rejoice While we find colour Burning in your brilliance Alabaster, gold, honey brown and chestnut Now we’re all camouflage The grass is olden, wistful and unkempt We’ll look through and find each other Or maybe a passing bird will carry us through To other realms Or back to our wombs Like the echo of steely friction And the ***** of alpine thorns Like a thousand needles From the paraphernalia Urban nomads play on Amorphous and obscure Boldly proclaiming their dissonance And in its trails The treacly placid darkness engulfs the mind with its Itinerant leftovers from an infantly battle It returns To sleep To heal To prepare anew, for a duel In the Winter City
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Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 12:58 PM UTC
Winter City