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"purls" poems
In a playful vision sent Your ****** homologue Of amber shins and pale phalanges Weaves four-leaved clovers. In response, ***** spurs And protean winged descent To float into your kaleidoscopic star: Gliding, Freely falling, To rest in lace extremities. There in our bed of sensual feet, Sunflowers breath, Whose burnished rotating petals Gather me in wisps, Each spiral frond, Gyring Before death's voids Is drawn in purls. And in pleasures held, Cossetted in latticed limbs, A ***** lustrous rich embrace; Denuded and alive! And with abandon kissed:     Bony toes     Tendons     Deep arches     Shins     Ankles,     Sweetmeats,     Light and delicate. As here between pretty shins And fleshy silken feet Our ascent begins Rising, From low regions, To scale new night, And crown our heights. This lovers' leap into prismatic reproduction In the empty Cosmic wastes      In a web is caught! Where feet and toes inspire Continuity for pointed stars. As material possibilities collide The lust for life Is born in non-existence: So in our nest of feet, Mating in the game With heads thrown back, Of lust drink deeply we.
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Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
Kaleidoscopic Feet
Evening cleats The Bay, As cavalcades of passive argon, sulphur on the ogham slicks, to treacle ways toward the seeding cooling of the hours,... The sleights of crimson, fringe the bruising cower of the West, to brightly die behind the leathered hill. From a wrist of tallowed amethyst, a Tiercel purls a last ellipse, and in his sinking helix ships, the Sommes of curdled estuaries, to brood the closing Mill....
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Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 1:11 PM UTC
The Steel Mill
Only a fool could have discovered such purls of wisdom.
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Mar 18, 2022
Mar 18, 2022 at 6:54 AM UTC
All wisdom is born from ignorance.
Incense used to cover up a marijuana trail, purls out the slightly cracked window and flows through the pixel apartment window screen as clouds crawl across the sky like the white feline flecked with basement dust as he yawns.
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:51 PM UTC
A Documentation of the Sky for Seven Days: Tuesday
My Mother is a butterfly For it is beauty that she brings To the garden and our lives And about the house she sings She is genteel and lovely The dew of lilies in spring Sparkling sunlit world Shining joy on everything She knits, she purls Scarves and baby cloak Cushion, insulate branches A sophisticated oak Family tree, center is she Strength of each our lives Great grand babies smiles Glee, elation whenever she arrives My mother is a butterfly A wonder of God’s good grace Flutters of my heart Every time I see her face
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 5:50 AM UTC
Mom With Wings