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Emily Grace May 2012
Every letter is red when I've written it for you
Red like my lips and my nails and the stains on my sheets
I feel like carnage and I need to tumble through it
Clawing at you as your eyes register the scene

But I only smile ingratiatingly at you
And push the pen harder to the paper
Where I will quietly slice your soul into hair fine threads
Wielding the most potent gift I have been given

It is the gift you gave me when you looked through my eyes
I have held it close and nursed it like a child
So that now I can plunge it into your chest like a dagger
And you will finally appreciate the horror of being a muse
Cute girl, a dove
You grew up expectant
Of an inviolable love.

But,know there are things
You should, such as
Unfold the unexpected could.

Cute girl, ingratiatingly enjoying
A green light
To the citadel of your girlhood
At the height of your virginal beauty
Holding you close ****
Adept in creating the required mood,
A fickle womanizer may
Suddenly leave you for good!

Sister you should have
Seen through
Mr. Fickle's lack of personal
Integrity and internal beauty.

So cute girl ,please brush aside
Your self pity packed song
"My love for Mr.Fickle,who adorned
with my chastity, is  
matchless and strong!"

Also cute girl , know you should
Punishing Mr.Fiddle
For Mr.Fickle's mistake
Is the worst displacement
You could make.

Thus cute girl
Better focus on the fact
You will be an efficacious cure
To a genuine lover yearning
For you  with a heart pure!

The love lorn
Mr.Fidel,probably
Injured by Miss.Fickle,
Terribly clamors for your help
To nurse him and
To get him back in shape.

The past you will
Cease to rewind
Soul and body
With lovelorn Mr.Fiddle
When you get entwined!

When pricked with a thorn
Barefooted farmers
Pull out the thorn
With a thorn
So cute girl pull out
The ungrateful Mr.Fickle
With the grateful Mr.Fiddle
That way the problem
You could settle!
It is not uncommon to observe most innocent girls suffer a blow when jilted by less genuine boy friends.It takes them long to get out of that mood,which could have a hanging over effect to a second love
Anais Vionet Oct 3
Peter (my bf) is coming to town - tonight. I’m breathy with excitement.
My energy is so sick. “Someone scrape her off the walls,” Leong remarked, as I bounded out of my room this morning.
Lisa winced, holding her hand up, as if to block the sun, “You never smile in the morning.”   “And she’s humming,” Sunny observed.
“I’m not,” I started, then after a pause I amended, “yeah, I guess I was.”

I’m not just happy, I’m some new kind of happy. It’s been too long.
I’m swinging a school’s-out, pre-Christmas, free iced-latte vibe.
I’ve been on the busiest stretch, clearing my schedule. I have to define my thesis this semester. Argh!

But I’m ready for some bf fun. I’ve changed my sheets, hidden the general mess and God, even vacuumed.
That’s very un-university-like behavior - believe me.
As down as I was last Friday night, from tanking that quiz, that’s how up I am now.

Speaking of that quiz, the only way to deal with a fret is to exorcize it, defeat it, vanquish it. I stalked the TA after class last Tuesday, finally cornering him, like a wounded animal at his desk.
“I tanked last week’s quiz,” I admitted, which sounded way more whiny out loud than it did in my head.
“Vionet, right?” He’d asked rhetorically, already clicking his keyboard to bring up the grade sheet.
“Are there any extra cred..” I began. “You got an 88,” he interrupted me. “Yeah, but,” I’d begun again
“That’s a B,” he’d deadpanned in a low, ‘why do I have to talk to idiots,’ voice.
“Yeah, but,” I’d began freshly, only to be re-interrupted.
“A weekly quiz,” he’d said, “like a hundredth of your grade.”  
“A B,” I began, shaking my head side to side in a ‘no’ way, but I’d smiled ingratiatingly too - I was going to win this guy over.
“You’re way too tightly wound,” he’d snarked, insensitively.
I opened my mouth to speak again when he said “OUT,” twisting his head to nod towards the door.
“You don’t,” I began, only to have him give me a teen-like, wide-eyed look as he nodded again at the door.
So, I flounced out, giving a silent voice to my indignation.
Bureaucracies.
.
.
Songs for this:
Take Off Ur Pants by Indigo De Souza
Kool Thing by Sonic Youth

.
.
Our cast
Peter, (My bf), is a bearded, 27-year-old from the sage hills of Malibu, California. He’s 6’1, too thin, his jet-black hair is perpetually uncombed and his skin is pale from over exposure to fluorescent lighting. He earned his PhD in Applied Physics last year and now he works for CERN in Geneva. He’s smart, quiet, awkward and he can be too serious. I’m unreasonably cRaZy about this guy.

Lisa, (roommate) 21, my bff and Manhattanite ‘glamor girl’ (who’d bristle at that description but it’s hundo-p true.) who grew up in a 50th floor Central Park South high-rise. A (pre-med) molecular biophysics and biochemistry major.

Leong, (roommate) 21, a ‘molecular, cellular, and developmental biology major,’ is from Macau, China - the Las Vegas of Asia and she’s a proud communist (don’t knock it til you’ve tried it). Growing up, I lived in Shenzhen China (about 30 miles from Macau) we both speak Cantonese (maybe why we were paired?) and we're able to talk a lot of secret trash together.

Sunny, (suitemate) 21, a (pre-med) molecular, cellular, and developmental biology major, is a cowgirl from Nebraska (seriously, she has a quarter horse and barrel races). She’s an outspoken fem-facing ladies-lady.

Your author, a simple country girl from Athens, Georgia is also a (pre-med) molecular biophysics and biochemistry major.
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 10/02/24:
Fret = to worry or be concerned.
Shivpriya Mar 2019
My aspiring faith has the
whelming courteousness.

It is tired of searching
you in the redintegration of
its jammiest sereneness.

The oblivescence wants
to say goodbye!

But the benevolent concern
of emotional readiness,
feels the frabjous joy by
submerging into an
ingratiatingly adorable
world.

-Shivpriya
#beautifulthingsandemotions
Travis Green May 2022
You are a beautiful, artistic, and tranquil paradise
That exceedingly attracts my attention
Dreamy enchanting sunbeams
That gleam and stream over my lovely sweet presence

You enliven me with sheer cheerful warmth
With your magical moist mouth melded to mine
So cozy and dope you are, with your youthfully
Silky, thick, and untamed beard
Your loveliest loving lips, so ingratiatingly enchanting

I melt into your fantastically vast and potent magic
In the marvelous ardent darkness
In the succulent summer nights where you enfold me
In your rare and immensely essential embracement

I taste your powerful structural  and lush thugness
Your fresh, thrilling flex, purely sensual smokiness
Your masculinity lingers in my bloodstream
Mingles with my heartbeat, entwines with my veins
Shines ever so supreme in my mindscape
Travis Green May 2022
I gaze into your sensual gleaming eyes
Feel sexually electrified by his worthy refined design
His smooth juicy lips are all I pine to devour

Let my fingers linger on his dramatically black mustache
His debonair dark beard, his fashionably fresh cut
While he rains his flaming untamed hotness on me

Drench me in his essential immensurable sensuality
Trail my stunningly exotic and majestic landscape
With his wondrously ardent and ecstatic hands

Gape deeply at the unparalleled myriad constellations
Covering my dreamy quintessential skin
Make my gayness glitter, reach the portal to my core

I want to explore his succulent golden grandness
Stream through the seamless shimmering seasons
Of his rare, cherishable, and unmappable dapperness

Drift extensively into his jubilant supereminent resplendency
Embrace his sinuous, sensuous, and delicious existence
His ingratiatingly radiant and compelling coolness
spry buck analogous to energizing bunny
jump/kickstarted procreation ruckus.

Home on the range
cacophony quite absurd
******* Bunny herd
and felt ingratiatingly inured,
nevertheless colony or nest
of doe eyed demoiselles
stewed over their
kit and caboodle being cannibalized
gourmet chef “coney” or “lapin”  
delicacy the magic word.

Ruled his hare'm
nsync with trumpeting Donald Duck,
(loud enough to arouse Daisy),
the former cartoon character,
a pensive searing black kind Roebuck
hare to a fortune hauling trash and *******,

whereby dust bunnies repurposed
into environmentally friendly
electric kool aid acid tested batteries
powering many an electric truck,
which wolfed, kick/jump started
and guzzled down
synthesized reconstituted quality kosher product.

An atypical genre I did tender
wherein I nestled inside warren
peaceful nested litter,
impossible mission fat chance
otherwise odds being slender,
not me mien tubby an offender
courtesy yours truly a heterosexual,
he considers himself thoroughly
one hundred percent male gender.

Anyway Harold's velvet teen,
fluff filled, carrot topped, R2D2
and humanoid C-P3O constituted two
mottled robots quasi manned motley crew,
where sniffling nose appeared blue
then twitched as if affected with
Bugs Bunny syndrome
also known as Oryctolagus cuniculus flu
asking What's up doc
ready to sneeze atchew
parallels to doe eyed Jewish herd -

mentality and sympathy for the devil
whose hooded guise did accrue
(to figurative rolling stone)
quite a reputation toasting with l'chaim
Herr heralded as germane
Semitic, laconic and genetic brew
stirring demagogue foremost
thru arduous peer review
of course primarily
commingling with ******* bunnies, singing
acapella like foo fighting goo goo
dolls, who blithely balleted,

be bopped, formed a choo choo,
bunny hopped, and
followed bunny trail
toward their hidden
underground treasured slew
of carrot stocked burrow
affecting captivating family
portrait, sans Leporidae, queue
essentially creating live floppy hoo
chee MOMA actionable

art, viz chiaroscuro,
though if his highness Harold
displeased with performance with Urdu
subtitles hissed, growled, foot stomped...
exhibiting cry and hue
threatened troupe, albeit playfully
tubby rabbit stew
otherwise he purred,
hummed, and clucked
contradictorily all the

while scrunching furry furrow
cuz the codas of Peter
Rabbit the Great did eschew
excessive helpings of
soft purr rayed coo coo
wing snapchatting accompanied
soft as butterfly effect
across webbed wide world flew
with faux paw gestures
being lovey dovey gentle foo foo

affectionate grand poobah
versus parochial orthodox pew
yule hating as much
as being sent to Peru
particularly match chew pitch chew,
where convincing reincarnation
of Edward Roscoe Murrow
aired broadcast Run Rabbit Run
intended for **** sexually repressed updike
such as yours truly, hence obviously
above reasonable rhyme not true.

— The End —