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"materializing" poems
A powerful euphoric sensation rushes to my brain when I inhale the crack ******* leaving me appalled for twenty one seconds to contemplate a super rush of dopamine into my central nervous system that hits me immediately an intense pleasant sensation is felt with a overly joyful feeling. The rush lasts about 2-5 minutes then slowly begins to come down I start to feel a slight paranoia then an uncomfortable feeling sets in midway to the euphoric high and after 10 minute mark I start to crave to repeat the powerful high. Like a thunderbolt energizing my whole body and rushing thoughts come crashing down at the 15 minute mark I begin to feel unsatisfied with myself wanting to repeat the vicious cycle all over again. Once I hit 20 minutes I feel like a cheap ***** who's been used and abused by the drug itself and this feeling of restlessness and dysphoria sets in leaving me once again alone and feeling slightly discontent. **** where can I get more hard again and there I once again start talking to myself creating fictitious illments and materializing maladies. That is chasing the Great White Dragon in a state of misery and despair. I was hooked but now am healed thru the 12 steps and the Grace of Almighty God. I am now 40 days clean and sober...I am sincere and certain not to pick up this again for if I do I'll will ruin my life or better yet put me in a casket. By the Grace of Adonai I praise thee for saving this wretched addict. Now and forevermore in debt with the Lord. Amen!
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May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 1:26 AM UTC
Crack *******
A powerful euphoric sensation rushes to my brain when I inhale the crack ******* leaving me appalled for twenty one seconds to contemplate a super rush of dopamine into my central nervous system that hits me immediately an intense pleasant sensation is felt with a overly joyful feeling. The rush lasts about 2-5 minutes then slowly begins to come down I start to feel a slight paranoia then an uncomfortable feeling sets in midway to the euphoric high and after 10 minute mark I start to crave to repeat the powerful high. Like a thunderbolt energizing my whole body and rushing thoughts come crashing down at the 15 minute mark I begin to feel unsatisfied with myself wanting to repeat the vicious cycle all over again. Once I hit 20 minutes I feel like a cheap ***** who's been used and abused by the drug itself and this feeling of restlessness and dysphoria sets in leaving me once again alone and feeling slightly discontent. **** where can I get more hard again and there I once again start talking to myself creating fictitious illments and materializing maladies. That is chasing the Great White Dragon in a state of misery and despair. I was hooked but now am healed thru the 12 steps and the Grace of Almighty God. I am now 40 days clean and sober...I am sincere and certain not to pick up this again for if I do I'll will ruin my life or better yet put me in a casket. By the Grace of Adonai I praise thee for saving this wretched addict. Now and forevermore in debt with the Lord. Amen!
Continue reading...
1
Existential exercise --In & Out-- Eternal ebb and flow, the Catalyst of the ages Revolving and funneling Precipitating and materializing Quarks and photons into Histories and futures and Laughs and lies
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC
Breath
I've walked into a tunnel. Following coats, Dragging behind in Abandon The light is slitted The shape above is Too Close to my head. The sharp, Undecided angles bother me And a nervous twitch begins. I imagine it like a funnel, Sorting population To pass through in Close quarters, Contact guaranteed. I sneeze And cough. My fever smolders Making my skin chill, And the thought of disease Enters, and crowds with me, Suffocating me to one side- But not too close- Don't touch anything. Fear grows. I am already sick But I could get sicker. Conspiracy drips over my thoughts, My fever leaving the normal functioning funnel In my mind To be burned away- materializing in the city- Around me. My thoughts bunch In clusters And pass all at once, Leaving waves of nausea And claustrophobia As I continue through the tunnel, Paranoia worsening my symptoms By the step.
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
Mind Funnel - Literal Tunnel
A feeling of claustrophobia has begun to confine me. This swamp of ideas thickens inside me, the murky clay mud making each step twice as demanding as the last. The once clear flowing waters of my dreams seem to be crystallizing, clouding and freezing over, ceasing the stream of my escape. My brain is callusing over incarcerating me, forcing me to experience the hardening of my own being. A reaction inside halting my imagination and depriving me of the ability to call out for help. These thoughts and words I evacuate onto this page only act as a catalyst speeding the process of my inevitable silence. There will come a time when the swamps have solidified, and the waters of my dreams become frozen clouded crystals trapped in place. My brain will develop into a callous, rendering my mind mute, I can feel this metamorphosis materializing yet there is nothing I can do to stop it, the development has already begun, all I can do is wait until a feeling of... A feeling of claustrophobia has begun to confine me.
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Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
A Feeling Of Claustrophobia.
Nothing compares To shaking on top of an old Broken down windmill With you. Nothing compares To silent summers Sweating in the sweltering heat Of love. Nothing compares To bright blue brick walls Bringing about a brightening of bleary bland feelings. Nothing compares To dark auburn dreams Drifting down my darling's cheek. Nothing compares To radical rants On ruined romances raining rivulets of righteousness Upon those rotten adolescents. Nothing compares To myriads of murals Of most moved men Materializing Meandering In the fields below. Nothing compares To falling flat to fear Fretting and fanning To finish off This fantasy.
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Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 9:27 AM UTC
The Windmill
Classroom Discussion Raucous noise vibrates across The surface of my ear Not daring to enter and disrupt The train of thought That processes as a machine Turning, creating, assembling The wheel of thought spinning round the axle -------A **** on the rope, a pull on the subconscious The pulley recognizes the intrusion of an applied force The wheels halt, as if rust jeopardizes its advance. The thoughts scatter, a snapped electrical wire snaking in shock; a cooper waving current racing back to a reality through black rubber nerves. The noise registers, confirming the split of a once continuous wire Insignificant words- not quite processing, failing to relay information, refusing to form a sentence, still trapped in a realm of limbo wanting to return to the rhythm of a reverie. Slipping, falling the mind surrenders, the electricity dies. Materializing in a classroom The cage for intellectual minds Discussing about. From one world to another - act, adapt The bright scientific lights burn The eyes of the dreamer Who creates from the dark, Objects exposed, judged, determined. No place for the dreamer, who loves warping reality. Within the metal box this reality is set. Bars on the window, an indestructible verticality Plastic seats, beige, blue, cold Sit this way, look up, right, like that. You are my animals now speak, raise a hand, perform a trick, tell me what I want to hear, Speak my language of intelligence, be my machine.
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May 2, 2011
May 2, 2011 at 5:11 AM UTC
Classroom Discussion
Like continents moving the skin off from over me , slowly.. deliberately with great force on the rest of my being , each aspect of myself emerges anew from the cocoon like first layer of childhood , i see myself spiral from the snakeskin left on the floor a forge is in it’s place of molten liquid energy running along my meridians. Serenading every judgement of another character with love shine , fresh from the gardens of mine that bathe by the sea air in my root chakra layer... mingles , with the heart echo arrow i send it with. Known; that the judgements of others are a side product of judgement of self. Be it , through the eyes of a hopeful parent or a tired teacher , a pig or a nit.... an angel or specter himself - None equal as true, to the eyes i see through on the matter my being is composed of. Integrating stillness in my vivacious bones , conscious movements flow , stabilizing the unknown into the known , materializing the un-materialized subconscious realm. Moving through visible reality shifts and mind rifts , exploring the astral world around me whilst moving through physical boundaries of borders Developing organs in my subtle body . Manifesting my foundations for stamina. What a joy it is to live from the heart.
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
Shedding and Morphing
In your eyes, I see my own. I waited so long for your presence to become real. In that crucial moment, I felt something changing my awareness, and the soundless vessels were filled with joyful abundance— colored by pain and sadness that time goes so fast in underrated moments. Materializing all these silent dreams, this one little girl who is growing, watching me with defenseless trust like nobody has before. Gestures, smiles, brief anger, and talks— I gather them in endless memory. Sweet Melody, my Purpose from the first breath, you chose me, and I felt beautifully complete. I know that a real journey begins through terra incognita Every day is surprisingly different. I accept with relief my passing. I see your blooming wisdom in thinking smiles, and authentic recognition. My Daughter, I want to give   as much love and acceptance as you need. Taking your hand and letting you go when you’re ready to walk into life on your own— watching the indigo sky. Breathing freely, without anxiety. After each fall, another resurrection comes. I am here, I hope to stay a long while to finally return to my last home, without fear, with some tears. Please, keep embracing this existence with good and lost people around. Be sure that I will smile in your still-beating heart giving you warmth. .
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Mar 6, 2025
Mar 6, 2025 at 6:44 PM UTC
Daughter
We were just kids,learning the life A 14, your birthday a big surprise At 15, a bunch of kids seizing the hopes sitting for the test, learning the ropes I hope to see you soon to know you're okay I hope I meant to you as you meant to me 3 years later,we've chosen a different way We passed in order to be free We thought we would stick together But lives change like the weather Our voice would echoe in the wells of light If I knew you were all copying just fine Are you materializing your far-to-reach dreams 'cause I try to,the world upside down how it feels? Did you notice the leaves changing in the fall? We'll be grown ups in a while, still miss you all I hope to see you soon to know you are okay I know we chased down the end of the rainbow 3 years later,we've chosen a different shade In order to be us,no one to follow
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Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
december birthdays
When I was little, Like, between 8 or 11- I used to wonder, Standing with the fiery Iowa Sun slowly blistering my shoulders; Where does the time go When it flies away? And if time sometimed Slowed, stopped, stood stock- Still, why could I not See its feet? If... (When) I was 8, 8 years from Mom's Belly, where was 9 for me? Born: Thursday, May 9, 1963. So, I can do the rudimentary Addition: 5/9/71, I'm exactly... 8. 2 weeks from 3rd grade being Over. Happy. Birthday. Presents. Cake, ice cream, a baseball game To hurry to, Teddy, we'll open Your presents and have cake when We get home from the ballgame. Ugh. Baseball. All I'm going to be Thinking obsessing about is what Lies beneath colorful wrapping. Time has a special Bitter flavor when you hope and pray The ball won't be hit to you, ever. Baseball is full of confused time- Time scurrying and rolling away from you In the form of a stupid large white stitched Ball that delightfully challenges you to be Quicker than it - Time then languishing, Elongating, becoming the torture of impatience Trying to stand in line and wait with that Virtuous virtue that time ever mocks. So it's the next day, and I'm 1 Day past 8. I'm a clock, then? I stored memories of 2, 3? Years Ago? And I stored scars, dumb Ideas materializing as real Blood, pain, stitches, howling... Did I store time inside my Mind, heart, left knee, right I didn't know. Life is often Too big a concept to really Grasp when you're eaten By 8 mosquitoes. And time slows down to A scaly crawdad claw That won't let go of your Left pinky finger. I thought, as I rode my bike Down the middle of the street, What about next year? 5/9/72? Ninth birthday? Where did that Day live? Was it millions and millions Of miles Earth had to travel to line Itself up clockwork-universe style With the time that spun, tilted, and Pushed the earth through space? What if I died? Did the time God gave me go back to Him? Like I was a human library of congress Book to spend a short amount of () And then be returned to my Original Owner?
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Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
Temporal Boots
When I was little, Like, between 8 or 11- I used to wonder, Standing with the fiery Iowa Sun slowly blistering my shoulders; Where does the time go When it flies away? And if time sometimed Slowed, stopped, stood stock- Still, why could I not See its feet? If... (When) I was 8, 8 years from Mom's Belly, where was 9 for me? Born: Thursday, May 9, 1963. So, I can do the rudimentary Addition: 5/9/71, I'm exactly... 8. 2 weeks from 3rd grade being Over. Happy. Birthday. Presents. Cake, ice cream, a baseball game To hurry to, Teddy, we'll open Your presents and have cake when We get home from the ballgame. Ugh. Baseball. All I'm going to be Thinking obsessing about is what Lies beneath colorful wrapping. Time has a special Bitter flavor when you hope and pray The ball won't be hit to you, ever. Baseball is full of confused time- Time scurrying and rolling away from you In the form of a stupid large white stitched Ball that delightfully challenges you to be Quicker than it - Time then languishing, Elongating, becoming the torture of impatience Trying to stand in line and wait with that Virtuous virtue that time ever mocks. So it's the next day, and I'm 1 Day past 8. I'm a clock, then? I stored memories of 2, 3? Years Ago? And I stored scars, dumb Ideas materializing as real Blood, pain, stitches, howling... Did I store time inside my Mind, heart, left knee, right I didn't know. Life is often Too big a concept to really Grasp when you're eaten By 8 mosquitoes. And time slows down to A scaly crawdad claw That won't let go of your Left pinky finger. I thought, as I rode my bike Down the middle of the street, What about next year? 5/9/72? Ninth birthday? Where did that Day live? Was it millions and millions Of miles Earth had to travel to line Itself up clockwork-universe style With the time that spun, tilted, and Pushed the earth through space? What if I died? Did the time God gave me go back to Him? Like I was a human library of congress Book to spend a short amount of () And then be returned to my Original Owner?
Continue reading...
70
*Hand me another gift sweetheat How sincere I adore the idea of materializing our love Or is it even love Or lust Or anything but lonliness Because I don't like cold sheets & neither do you But I think we both know The sheets are always cold Cold with the thought That maybe it's not the sheets It's us* a.m.
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Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
material love
there's a door I ignore it at night. I can see the shadows slipping underneath it to some unknown place where grabby things are living and biding their time til opportune, they can ****** me. when all the lights are off I am in the quick scuttle to my bedroom, cellphone aloft for the tiny blue glow that will protect me from monsters unless they are in the air, materializing in my lungs to scare me from the inside out. and even when I have ducked fully under the covers of my bed I lie, flat, rigid. No breath, in case dark things folded and slithering underneath my clothes, in the drawers, or twined around the hangers can see the movement and take the opportunity of me captive in my bed, to pounce.
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Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 9:36 AM UTC
Slither Slither
Hanging in a leaden sky Gulls, in tight formation, fly. Heavy snow's cascading flare Sodium sharpness filling air. Heaving waves carousing fen Ocean's scent, aloft.. .and then The skiff with oarsman pulling tight Materializing from the night Braving, now, a heavy sea Puffing pipe, irreverently. Oblivious of mounting gale Abandons oar to set a sail Skimming sharp to gravel beach Shrugs aside hazards reach. Wading into pounding foam Smiling thought of *** at home. [email protected]
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Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 11:13 PM UTC
Irreverently, He Puffs his Curved old Pipe.
Holding my breath so I can take control. Feelings unrest, I can’t seem to grow. Problems unsolved, it’s an overload. Losing my mind right before I explode. I said I’m foretold to be the truth. Swear an oath, but it didn’t bare any roots. At any given moment one could lose his youth. Don’t know who he is cause he wears another mans boots.   Walking irritations, bearing all the earnings of their fruits. Limits are escalating and I’m tarring down the roof. A Course to deviation, unable to see any other routes .   Blind to temptations. The struggle fits me like a  suit. Holding my breath so I can take control. Feelings unrest, I can’t seem to grow. Problems unsolved, it’s an overload. Losing my mind right before I explode. Time is deteriorating, everyday life of a destitute.    Waters are evaporating and I’m thirsty for whatever’s absolute. Problems eternally materializing, full of sorrow and solitude. Emptiness continuously multiplying, like a disease it pollutes. Visions are tremendously horrifying, wishing to **** the sound and become a mute. The story’s are ultimately glorifying, ghoulish torment and Chaos to distribute. Nothing but hesitation. Loneliness overtaking, going through all these hoops. Screams are instantly mesmerizing, the ending is what They Pursue. Holding my breath so I can take control. Feelings unrest, I can’t seem to grow. Problems unsolved, it’s an overload. Losing my mind right before I explode.
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Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 2:32 AM UTC
Vendetta
To face the fear of being liquid, I go under, float the drift. Leave the boat behind, no worries. I am in no hurry to school with the rest, colorful parrot fish, at home in the depths. I am not afraid of sharks materializing from the inked abyss. The nothing in their soulless eyes is just black-bottomed assessing - not one of us. In a lazuli sea, the barracuda cartel tails me, their silver barrels rule the reef, leering grins glinting diamonds, hungry pirates seeking gold hidden in my tender lobes. Yellow-bellied sea snakes swarm, their sinuously wicked heads disappear and reappear on ebb and crest of every wave, see their split tongues read the chemistry of each exhaled breath. A swollen catch unsought. Forsworn. What's lost will be reborn. From within, yolk still tethered, resting on the bottom. Net a dying heart, return it to the deep, watch it roll and flutter, remember how to beat.
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Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 11:57 AM UTC
The Water's Fine
Beneath the surface my humility dwell In holes leading straight to hell With love deeper than the ocean floor For that special someone I once adored Imagine black or consuming white An emptiness that's filled with night An endless yearning for all that's left A mirror image of all regrets Accelerating particles As thoughts turn to waves Quickly materializing Then fading to gray ...
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Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
SHABBY-HEARTED ME
a sonorous and straightforward declaration of contentment your eyes are poetry and my heart is drenched with calm hopefulness the mind and core synchronize with intention to ascend into a novel vibrating frequency neither party knew was accessible liberating, raw creative energy to thrive with another who strives for endless truth striking the transition toward enlightenment with a partner in survival through any challenge put forth by the ever enchanting, ever expanding universe we are immersed in promises of freedom are fully materializing unlike anything previously sensed everything is starting to fall into place
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
bright light
It Was One Of Those Nights When The Abysses Of Sorrow Put Their Weight On The Heart Making You Wish You Tear It Apart. When The Fractures Of The Soul Expand From The Deepest Void Emerging In Waves Of Salt Filling the Eyes Wide Shut Painfully When Your Insignificance and Hopelessness Are Pouring Through The Crimson Rivers And You Want To Let Them Flow Open Begging Life To Have Mercy The Cloud Came Floating Over Me A Storm Of Pure Chaotic Darkness Animated By A Sea Of Lightning Reasoning Of Silent Thunders A Slow Descent Of Majesty In The Realm A Gate To Relief From Despair Coming Face To Face With Its Creation Feeling The Pain Of Its Tortured Soul A Gray Form Drawing On the Black Vapor Emerging From The Infinity Of Time Feeling From The Sorrow Of The Caller Materializing In A Peaceful Face Eyes Shut As They Can Not Dare To See Lips Closed As They Can Not Dare To Taste Light Hair Floating In Evanescence Approaching Slowly To My Agonizing Face The Eyes Opening Slowly, Letting Flow Moonlight Rays The Lips Carefully Dividing, Startdust Dropping On My Face Winds Of Compassion Entering My Soul Twin Love Reviving Dark Ashes As I Saw The Face Faded Away The Cloud Returned To The Void Of Creation I Knew That I Will Cut Widely The Red Rivers For The Light Is Not Meant For Me Warlock
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Mar 10, 2010
Mar 10, 2010 at 1:16 PM UTC
Dark Cloud
And leave it to Turturro To steal the movie again, A tour-de-force in a single character, Repeatedly, consistently . . . Except maybe one time. "Raging Bull" 1980: Turturro was "Man at Table," Uncredited, of course, A man of no words, A role difficult, constraining for any Would-be Richard Burton, Some shrew-taming Petruchio, Over the top & out of a job, Again. Ask any director who Directed in the 1950s and 60s? "Difficult to handle," says Unanimous, Auteurs & Schlock Filmmakers, Alike. Turturro too, needs special handling, Or Jesus Quintana will chew up the scenery, Emilio Lopez will be sneaky-sneaky-sneaky, Materializing without warning over & over Again. Turturro: veteran of 60+ films, *Barton Fink, Miller's Crossing, Fading ****** The Color of Money, Do the Right Thing, O Brother, Where Art Thou?* Turturro TV: Frazier, Monk & Miami Vice. And others. Turturro: a Brooklyn boy, Italian, Roman-Catholic, the son of Katherine, An amateur jazz singer who worked in a Navy yard during World War II, & Nicholas Turturro, a carpenter & Construction worker who fought as a Navy sailor on D-Day. Turturro: attended the State University of New York at New Paltz, completed his MFA at the Yale School of Drama. A life most worthy, capped off with Amedeo & Diego, his two sons. So, I'd like to thank The Academy, In advance yet decades overdue: A Lifetime Achievement Award, Johnny. Recognition over the long haul.
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Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 1:16 AM UTC
"Click-Click-Click"
Waiting for that creaking sound of girls hostel he waited for the entire night thinking of the day to blossom. Devastation of those unlatching tensions revolutionized his dreams which were burnt alive by those thunderous storms of love. He remember that old odor of her tears mingled with cosmetics on her face whose fragrance almost demanded unpredictable love to which he bowed with his heart. Breezy winds flew as unintended emotions brewed out materializing the enlightenment that i feel in love wetting the brevity of my poetry with those wet dreams! Hypnotized by the lavished love which tuned frequency of my intolerable heart instantiated my vocal cords to reverberate in a different passion in a musical way...in the direction of wind trying to make it resonate with nature I LOVE YOU
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Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 3:54 AM UTC
A love poem
******* the thumb of hopelessness I grew up Watching life die in despair I threw up I walked away to find a new way Where one gets his own say Like a mad scientist I experimented with my soul My fatuousness which only created in me a deep black hole My life was always black and white Faded from the colors of happiness's sight Death and gloom on the doorstep Thats what I always felt when sometimes I used to take a breath The fragments of my soul falling like falling hair Thats what was only realised by me there Feeling of sadness and tormentation was only left to share The brunt of which my inner self could never bear My blood seemed like hot lava in the heart Pumping blood and materializing hatred was what was done by my heart I was taught torture and pain Never to use my own brain So I did what I had always dreamt of I did what what my soul died every second for I killed myself, but that's why I on the first place lived for The ecstacy that laid in there I gave my soul to share.
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
Agony of Life's Algorithm
Enraptured by our sinful freedom, we worshipped the moment. The wolves of wisdom at the heels of our frolicking hares. They haven't caught up yet, don't hesitate. You admitted you love her but your eyes were flooded with my own. How could I speak when my dreams were materializing. You grabbed me when I had never kissed before.
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Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
Whirlwind
It’s not enough to love you, I want to inhale you, Breathe you, Feel you between The chambers of my heart, Your sweet oxygen Materializing Into totalizing Oblivion, Mingling Bodies and blood, Spirit confounded, Compounded Into this unitary union. Fruition found My bones, bounded To this body and earth, Rhythmically versed, Your gentle breathing, Keep him with me By becoming in tune With spirit, body, I swoon.
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Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 12:41 AM UTC
Breathe You