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"paraglide" poems
I want to be more active And not spew about all my feelings I'm done pitying myself, I just need to trust God, Anyways here's an ending bucket list Because I won't write back in a while: Free swim with whales and sharks See a lion pride Shark cage diving Sky dive Ski a double black diamond Climb a mountain Film a tornado Learn to surf Learn to snowboard Learn to scuba dive See a wild wolf pack See a wild brown bear Hang glide Paraglide Cliff dive Ride Route 66 Camp in complete wilderness of Yellowstone for week Hike mount Haleakala, Hawaii, and photograph night sky Visit equafina springs FL (again) Camp on a beach (not crowded) with friends Kiss in the rain Go tree tent camping in smoky mountains Own bonsai tree for many years Own horses Dye my hair (once) Camp on my own private sail boat w friends Write a book (actually commit, doesn't have to be good or published) Own theses dogs: Newfie, husky, Akita Live in Alaska Live in the Yukon Live in Colorado Climb the grand Tetons and pray Live without a cell phone See Unimak pass Alaska and film orcas Milk a cow
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Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
See Ya Later
*He said to her after making love. I want to skydive from a plane. I want to. Paraglide from a cliff top. I want to climb a sheer rock face. I want to take a diving Bell to the deepest part of the ocean. She held him close to her Her softness exquisite and lovely. She said to him If you want to do something that terrifies you to the core. Why don’t you marry me? *
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 5:23 AM UTC
Commitment Phobia
* He was always chatty after making love He said to her in his expansive voice.. I want to skydive from a plane. I want to paraglide from a cliff top. I want to climb the sheer rock face of the Himalaya's I want to take a diving Bell to the deepest part of the ocean. I want to all this before I am thirty. She held him close to her Her softness exquisite and lovely he melted into her. She said to him If you want to do something that terrifies you to the core. Why don’t you just marry me.*
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Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 6:05 AM UTC
Dangerous Pursuits
My stomach does that thing— you know, when the ghost rests a hand there. Not a hit. Just a hush, and fingernails. Like it never left. Like I’m the one who forgot to feed it. It’s always at dawn. Or mid-laugh. Or in line at the dollar store— buying nail polish I’ll chew off by Tuesday and an eyelash curler, just in case he sees me from across a decade. Then you paraglide in— a salesman who knew I’d be home. And the floor remembers what I worked so hard to forget. And I gasp—like I tripped. But I didn’t. I remembered. I remembered the ghost you left me to raise alone. Like: “Hi. Just passing through. Don’t stress on my behalf.” I nod. And I don’t. I keep chewing the same nail. My eyelashes are curled. My stomach still does that thing. You know the one.
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Apr 23, 2025
Apr 23, 2025 at 11:30 AM UTC
You Know the One