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"lover" poems
You fade... Like a bruise. Like the ones your mouth left on my neck and shoulders with its lustful pressure. Your teeth, which brought moments of bright pain/pleasure, Are now bared in an artificial, animal smile. Your lips, which parted to taste my skin like it was salvation, Barely part now to speak to me. You whispered my name like a prayer. You screamed it like a curse. You sighed it in contentment, And now you won't even speak it in passing. Your hands, which half-playfully pulled my hair... Now won't pause to brush it from my face. All these parts of you, None more telling than your eyes. Those new windows, which once let me pry... Now have blinds drawn tight behind them, Leaving only a pretty, shiny reflection- A passing, glancing imitation- Of the passion they once held When they beheld Me. No color left to them but the muddy colors of Boredom, And possibly mistrust. You fade... Like a bruise. Like the one you left on my mind with your brilliant conversation And beautiful, rusty prose. Like the many you left on my tongue... Which now can speak nothing but trite and meaningless words, Which now can barely remember the shapes Of all the shimmering, liquid phrases it spoke to you That seemed so important at the time. You fade... Like a bruise. Once lover and friend, Now barely one And never the other again.
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May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
You Fade
What is the hardest part                     Of being alone? It's the quietness, A stillness making What ought have been a home- a house. It's filled with beds, But those lover's nests Are             Empty. And the thought is As occupying as a dream. A dream you cannot feel Because the loneliness is keeping you awake With no one to hold down your fears          And keep you safe.
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Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 11:45 PM UTC
The Hardest Part
The end is nearing but please don't cry please don't worry we all have to die. My time has come, the story must end you were my lover, my best friend.
0
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 3:54 AM UTC
The end of a story
Whether a comma, or colon: Punctuation slows my rolling I need no period. When I end no Capitalization when I begin Rulelessly I flow my art   Not a single! Exclamation mark Are you not the one Who'll know? Where a question mark No longer goes Warp the structure Bend the lines Put in repeat Let emotion unwind Make yourself Your poetry's the best Be your own ruler Pass your own test Take your own road Where ever it leads Lover or hater It's all poetry!
0
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 5:19 AM UTC
MAKE YOURSELF
There is art In your heart Painting pictures When I lay My head down on your chest There are songs in your eyes Singing lullabies When you hover Pin me down With your stare There is a poem On the tip Of your tongue I taste it When I kiss you You are tortured Stereotyped My jaded lover I hear it When you won't talk
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Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 3:35 AM UTC
You Are A Masterpiece
There comes a day in your life where you meet someone special… You try so hard not to admit it but you just can’t hold back the way you feel… I like you. You get all those feelings… Those butterflies you can’t stomach, That heart rate you can’t put at ease, So baby … Sweetheart with the beautiful smile. Sure, I loved sleep But dreams couldn't compare Not to talking to you until my mind screamed for rest And the butterflies in my stomach settled Darling with the endless amount of love… your love could fill the oceans and climb the tallest trees, but could your love belong to me someday? Be given to me? Can you feel the way I do for you? & Boy, sometimes I tangle my own fingers Closing my eyes, losing myself in a daydream Where your voice is more than an echo in my mind And I even believe for a few seconds you're still here Lover, who writes me poems, You should know I write you too. I write about you until my fingers ache And still after that I keep writing Because there's just some people you could write about forever And baby, you're one of them. And boy who played me a song, Sweet sounds bow down to my ears, And the way you play your guitar… & the way I daydream about kissing your lips... I can’t wait until the sparks of your tongue burn my mouth send electric shocks through my body Cutie… with the funny jokes, You make me laugh. Today you made me laugh, like you always do, you’re the only one who can now a days. Baby, with those sparkling eyes, Your eyes haunt me whether I'm dreaming or not And what haunts me more is the fact that I can’t have you now because you ruined it It hurts to think about it, So I have to block you out. Play your songs to someone else, Read your silly lines of heartache to someone else, And go find… someone else.
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Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
I kinda sorta think I'm falling for you
There comes a day in your life where you meet someone special… You try so hard not to admit it but you just can’t hold back the way you feel… I like you. You get all those feelings… Those butterflies you can’t stomach, That heart rate you can’t put at ease, So baby … Sweetheart with the beautiful smile. Sure, I loved sleep But dreams couldn't compare Not to talking to you until my mind screamed for rest And the butterflies in my stomach settled Darling with the endless amount of love… your love could fill the oceans and climb the tallest trees, but could your love belong to me someday? Be given to me? Can you feel the way I do for you? & Boy, sometimes I tangle my own fingers Closing my eyes, losing myself in a daydream Where your voice is more than an echo in my mind And I even believe for a few seconds you're still here Lover, who writes me poems, You should know I write you too. I write about you until my fingers ache And still after that I keep writing Because there's just some people you could write about forever And baby, you're one of them. And boy who played me a song, Sweet sounds bow down to my ears, And the way you play your guitar… & the way I daydream about kissing your lips... I can’t wait until the sparks of your tongue burn my mouth send electric shocks through my body Cutie… with the funny jokes, You make me laugh. Today you made me laugh, like you always do, you’re the only one who can now a days. Baby, with those sparkling eyes, Your eyes haunt me whether I'm dreaming or not And what haunts me more is the fact that I can’t have you now because you ruined it It hurts to think about it, So I have to block you out. Play your songs to someone else, Read your silly lines of heartache to someone else, And go find… someone else.
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47
I'm in love with a man I know not to love, his heart will never be free. I waste my days a slave to his ways- knowing he will never love me. He is the secret I can never reveal, the best lover I ever have known. I've nothing to give but my body.....it's his- fresh dirt for him to bury his bone. Hopelessly hooked on him like a drug, wanting him day and night. I play his ***** game I have no shame- taking it all, knuckles white. Dead is the conscience I knew so well, and morals.....they ran far away. Clarity now blurry in a love-drunk slurry- the 'good me' has gone astray. To lay with him is playing with fire, the flames...they burn me alive. Leaving me marred hurting and scarred- the pain on which I thrive. A fool for punishment I beg for more, even if all I am worthy of is **** Loving him breaks me it overtakes me- but I'm not willing to quit. I die a little more with each passing day, until again, I get lost in those eyes.... All doubts go away so for now I'll stay- living this life of lies.
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Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
Life of Lies
you are the soothing hum the grass stains on my jeans the summer in my hair the color in my cheeks you are the the constant wave beating against my heart the warm honey on my lips the paint on my nails you are the perfect dance and a moonlit ride the sticky vanilla cream you are the flower in my palm the reason I smile the chills down my spine you are more than you'll ever know you are the love of my life
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Apr 22, 2010
Apr 22, 2010 at 7:32 PM UTC
honey lover
Can I come to you as I am, in secret- brimming with the need to be held? Can I lay hot whispers on your skin then taste how they make you feel? Can I show you how to touch me, how hard to press? If I cry can I hide salty tears in the soft curve of your neck? Can I bite, ever so gently, before I scream? Can I be your lover, without you loving me? Can I, please?
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Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 11:22 PM UTC
Please?
i don't even know it cause I try not to show it but you dealing with lover slash poet start speaking in tongues and you wont even know it then your body start reacting, to what I am saying like i own it your actions speaking louder than words your body show it I got what you need cause I'm the main component you thirsty, then lets feed our lust is potnent
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Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
Lust
Dearest friend, parent, lover Whoever might be reading this I'm sorry i couldn't stay strong. I'm sorry i couldn't stand it anymore It's not anyones fault, i just wasn't meant to be here. Just like those flowers that never bloom. They just grow and starts hanging a bit, then dies. Dear younger siblings. Don't look up to me, look up to people like daddy or momma, they're happy, i weren't. One life lesson i've learnt is that happiness doesn't come without courage, but with too much courage you'll get tired and let go when you finally get there, and you'll end back where you started. Dear older "sister" You know who you are and you're probably reading this right now, smiling at how i mention you as my sister. You're the best person to ever be in my life, and even though you told me a couple of years ago that you were lesbian i never rethought the meaning of your hugs, cause i know we're sisters. If it wasn't for you i would have done this a lot earlier so thank you. Dear parents. Don't cry, i'm not worth your beautiful tears.. I have nothing more to say than i know you lost me, but don't lose courage. Dear best friend. Thank you for always being there. Thank you for telling me that everything will be alright.. It just hurts me to say that you were wrong.. And i'm sorry cause i know this will bring you pain.. But i know you have some other. Nice friends who'd support you. Dear stranger. I'm sorry if i was goind to know you in my no longer exisisting future.. You're better off without me anyways.. Dear myself. I'm sorry i can't hold on anymore, i know that you had your happy times, and that a lot of people longed for your life, but i couldn't stand it anymore.. Dear person I'm sorry the voices became too much. I'm sorry i ran out of place to make scars.. I'm sorry i couldn't stand this inner pain anymore.. Dear person.. I'm sorry.. Goodbye..
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
Suicide note.
Dearest friend, parent, lover Whoever might be reading this I'm sorry i couldn't stay strong. I'm sorry i couldn't stand it anymore It's not anyones fault, i just wasn't meant to be here. Just like those flowers that never bloom. They just grow and starts hanging a bit, then dies. Dear younger siblings. Don't look up to me, look up to people like daddy or momma, they're happy, i weren't. One life lesson i've learnt is that happiness doesn't come without courage, but with too much courage you'll get tired and let go when you finally get there, and you'll end back where you started. Dear older "sister" You know who you are and you're probably reading this right now, smiling at how i mention you as my sister. You're the best person to ever be in my life, and even though you told me a couple of years ago that you were lesbian i never rethought the meaning of your hugs, cause i know we're sisters. If it wasn't for you i would have done this a lot earlier so thank you. Dear parents. Don't cry, i'm not worth your beautiful tears.. I have nothing more to say than i know you lost me, but don't lose courage. Dear best friend. Thank you for always being there. Thank you for telling me that everything will be alright.. It just hurts me to say that you were wrong.. And i'm sorry cause i know this will bring you pain.. But i know you have some other. Nice friends who'd support you. Dear stranger. I'm sorry if i was goind to know you in my no longer exisisting future.. You're better off without me anyways.. Dear myself. I'm sorry i can't hold on anymore, i know that you had your happy times, and that a lot of people longed for your life, but i couldn't stand it anymore.. Dear person I'm sorry the voices became too much. I'm sorry i ran out of place to make scars.. I'm sorry i couldn't stand this inner pain anymore.. Dear person.. I'm sorry.. Goodbye..
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23
A lover asked his beloved, Do you love yourself more than you love me? The beloved replied, I have died to myself and I live for you. I’ve disappeared from myself and my attributes. I am present only for you. I have forgotten all my learning, but from knowing you I have become a scholar. I have lost all my strength, but from your power I am able. If I love myself I love you. If I love you I love myself.
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47.4k
Do You Love Me?
The epitome on the show is more than a dream turned true a timeless beauty stitched on the stone. The first sight hooks the eyeballs no star is a far cry from here it looks so close. A narrative feels so familiar is never old seen tons of times yet is a new Taj Mahal. Since the medieval eyes were dazzled by this monument of love the crave to eye on it once in a lifetime is in every lover’s heart! People of new ages flock here with the admiring birds on this air of everlasting romance never gone with the wind are mesmerised with love!
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 12:16 AM UTC
Taj Mahal
Both light and shadow are the dance of Love. Love has no cause; it is the astrolabe of God’s secrets. Lover and Loving are inseparable and timeless. Although I may try to describe Love when I experience it I am speechless. Although I may try to write about Love I am rendered helpless; my pen breaks and the paper slips away at the ineffable place where Lover, Loving and Loved are one. Every moment is made glorious by the light of Love.
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46.6k
The Meaning of Love
**1.Language Dissolved in a kiss their eyes created a new language. 2.Symbol there was an eloquent black mole under her lower lip 3.Silence The unruly crowd fell silent in her profound presence 4.Delusion Her lover, an anthropologist, suspected her as a new species! 5.Take bath now, not for cleanliness Her bathing him wasn't about cleanliness; amorous explorations aren't.**
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
Transience gazes the profound(10&5)
We hug We kiss We cuddle In bed We were just friends We made out To him We were having *** To me We were making love I was his friends with benefits But he was my lover
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Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 12:49 PM UTC
Friends with benefits
We waste most of the time, trying to find that one thing we all desire, happiness. But what we all do not know is, happiness lies in everything, even the littlest things. Happiness lies in a beautiful day, where the sun is up, and the sky is in a shade of blue. Happiness lies in the people we love, a lover, a friend, a family member. Happiness lies in a good cup of coffee, and a friend we share lovely conversations with. Happiness lies in wonderful moments, Happiness lies in music, the ones we dance and sing along to. Happiness lies in someone's laughter, and a smile so bright, it shines one's heart. Happiness lies in everything surrounding us.
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Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
Happiness
The eyes of a supernova seeping into mine So harsh, so hot, but so soft, so loving Passionate but patient So much in so few It’s so warm Cheeky grins and burning desire taunt me So painful, so explosive but so comforting, so alluring Painstaking but playful Ablaze though we’re scared It’s extraordinary There’s no words to match this melodic image So sweaty, so intense but so quiet, so calm Dreamy but real Like a fantasy It’s blissful The sensation of fire melting to stardust Embrace it, taste it, love it, feel it Crafted and delicate Two stars colliding His pulsating heartbeat needs me My longing kiss needs him He’s my lover boy And I’m his It’s so warm
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Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
Lover Boy
ground zero i become aware of boundaries i am a dog chasing cars i sing your voicemail to sleep there are no surgeon general warnings to tell me that *the objects in the mirror are more depressed than they appear* so how do i tell you that there are parts of my life that move slower without you in them? or that i look for you every day in emails & unanswered calls in the sunrises i didn't choose to be awake to watch that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them    stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip    stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant    stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me after people always ask what was loving her like? after a really long silence i just say "it must be nice" but i never say it's watching paint dry i never say it's a window seat in hell i don't tell anyone about the dreams where i am reading you bedtime stories each one is a different way you die & every time i can never save you dreams where what i think are angels in my bedroom are just homeless versions of myself you never loved i have dreams where i pay someone to shoot me just to see if you would cry just to see if you would cradle my body i don't tell people that loving you is like playing piano for someone who can't hear that it's hitting repeat on my favorite song & forgetting the words every time it starts over that it's finding out there's no milk after you already poured yourself a bowl of cereal it's getting locked in the dark & being told to look on the bright side that loving you is like being reminded of what it felt like the first time you accidentally let go of a balloon as a child it's drowning without the water it's the feeling you get when you start to dance & the song ends
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
stages of detachment
ground zero i become aware of boundaries i am a dog chasing cars i sing your voicemail to sleep there are no surgeon general warnings to tell me that *the objects in the mirror are more depressed than they appear* so how do i tell you that there are parts of my life that move slower without you in them? or that i look for you every day in emails & unanswered calls in the sunrises i didn't choose to be awake to watch that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them    stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip    stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant    stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me after people always ask what was loving her like? after a really long silence i just say "it must be nice" but i never say it's watching paint dry i never say it's a window seat in hell i don't tell anyone about the dreams where i am reading you bedtime stories each one is a different way you die & every time i can never save you dreams where what i think are angels in my bedroom are just homeless versions of myself you never loved i have dreams where i pay someone to shoot me just to see if you would cry just to see if you would cradle my body i don't tell people that loving you is like playing piano for someone who can't hear that it's hitting repeat on my favorite song & forgetting the words every time it starts over that it's finding out there's no milk after you already poured yourself a bowl of cereal it's getting locked in the dark & being told to look on the bright side that loving you is like being reminded of what it felt like the first time you accidentally let go of a balloon as a child it's drowning without the water it's the feeling you get when you start to dance & the song ends
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68
I still reference you in conversations. I still smell your flannels. I wonder how soft your hair is today. I kiss the walls of the shower just to hear the same pop our lips would make. I wish I had endless pictures of your collar bones and eyes. I wish I had endless access to your thighs and chest and that dot on your neck. When I *** I say your name. Your voice recordings aren't the same.  I want you to call and put me to sleep with your breath and I want this all without the repercussions. I want you to be my friend. And I want the benefit of you being my lover again.
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Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 4:02 AM UTC
'Friends with Benefits' don't benefit at all.
Here is the inimitable Jeff Buckley's poem, "My New Year's Eve Prayer," which he performed live at Sin-é in Manhattan, NYC, in 1996. "You, my love, are allowed to forget about the Christmas you just spent stressed out in your parents' house. You, my love, are allowed to shed the weight of all the years before, like bad disco clothes. Save them for a night of dancing ****** with your lover. You, my love, are allowed to let yourself drown every night in bottomless wild and naked symbolic dreams. You, my love, in sleep can unlock your youth and your most terrifying magic; and dreaming is for the courageous. You, my love, are allowed to grab my guitar and sing me idiot love songs if you've lost your ability to speak. Keep it down to two minutes. You, my love, are allowed to rot and to die and to live again, more alive and incandescent than before. You, my love, are allowed to beat the **** out of your television, choke it's thoughts and corrupt its mind. **** **** **** **** the ************ before the song of zombiefied pain and panic and malaise and it's narrow right-winged vision and it's cheap commercial gang **** becomes the white noise of the world. Turn about is fair play. You, my love, are allowed to forgive and love your television. You, my love, are allowed to speak in kisses to those around you and those up in heaven. You, my love, are allowed to show your babies how to dance full bodied, starry eyed, audacious, supernatural and glorified. You, my love, are allowed to **** in every single endeavor. You, my love, are allowed to be soaked like a lovers' blanket in the New York summertime with the wonder of your own special gift. You, my love, are allowed to receive praise. You, my love, are allowed to have time. You, my love, are allowed to understand. You, my love, are allowed to love. Woman, disobey, when little men believe; You, my love, are Rebellion."
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Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 5:08 PM UTC
My New Year's Eve Prayer by Jeff Buckley
Here is the inimitable Jeff Buckley's poem, "My New Year's Eve Prayer," which he performed live at Sin-é in Manhattan, NYC, in 1996. "You, my love, are allowed to forget about the Christmas you just spent stressed out in your parents' house. You, my love, are allowed to shed the weight of all the years before, like bad disco clothes. Save them for a night of dancing ****** with your lover. You, my love, are allowed to let yourself drown every night in bottomless wild and naked symbolic dreams. You, my love, in sleep can unlock your youth and your most terrifying magic; and dreaming is for the courageous. You, my love, are allowed to grab my guitar and sing me idiot love songs if you've lost your ability to speak. Keep it down to two minutes. You, my love, are allowed to rot and to die and to live again, more alive and incandescent than before. You, my love, are allowed to beat the **** out of your television, choke it's thoughts and corrupt its mind. **** **** **** **** the ************ before the song of zombiefied pain and panic and malaise and it's narrow right-winged vision and it's cheap commercial gang **** becomes the white noise of the world. Turn about is fair play. You, my love, are allowed to forgive and love your television. You, my love, are allowed to speak in kisses to those around you and those up in heaven. You, my love, are allowed to show your babies how to dance full bodied, starry eyed, audacious, supernatural and glorified. You, my love, are allowed to **** in every single endeavor. You, my love, are allowed to be soaked like a lovers' blanket in the New York summertime with the wonder of your own special gift. You, my love, are allowed to receive praise. You, my love, are allowed to have time. You, my love, are allowed to understand. You, my love, are allowed to love. Woman, disobey, when little men believe; You, my love, are Rebellion."
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46
With my whole body I taste these peaches, I touch them and smell them. Who speaks? I absorb them as the Angevine Absorbs Anjou. I see them as a lover sees, As a young lover sees the first buds of spring And as the black Spaniard plays his guitar. Who speaks? But it must be that I, That animal, that Russian, that exile, for whom The bells of the chapel pullulate sounds at Heart. The peaches are large and round, Ah! and red; and they have peach fuzz, ah! They are full of juice and the skin is soft. They are full of the colors of my village And of fair weather, summer, dew, peace. The room is quiet where they are. The windows are open. The sunlight fills The curtains. Even the drifting of the curtains, Slight as it is, disturbs me. I did not know That such ferocities could tear One self from another, as these peaches do.
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35.2k
A Dish of Peaches in Russia
i like to think that on the flower you gave me when we loved the far- departed mouth sweetly-saluted lingers. if one marvel seeing the hunger of my lips for a dead thing, i shall instruct him silently with becoming steps to seek your face and i entreat,by certain foolish perfect hours dead too, if that he come receive him as your lover sumptuously being kind because i trust him to your grace,and for in his own land he is called death.
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32.2k
I Like
I went out to find Some value in me, So I sold what I had For little a fee. My eyes for a penny I sold to some fools, They're blind and useless, Mistook for jewels. My lips for a nickel To the sweetest sin, So they'll know the love That has never been. My ears for a dime I sold to a lover. To hear sweet nothings, And silence uncover. My hands for a quarter I sold to a ghost, So that she might feel What I've wanted the most. Finally my bones for a dollar I sold to the earth, But as for my soul- There was found no worth.
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Aug 10, 2019
Aug 10, 2019 at 5:23 PM UTC
For What It's Worth
*Streaming sunlight, what an intense, insistent lover! empty catamaran dances in it's sultry embrace, on the foam bed of gently rocking sea waves. The dark shadow of this union finds it's kind of fun swimming deeper, frightening fish roaming in pairs.*
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
Love: above and below the dancing waves