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"snuggling" poems
I am no longer the Steady thrum of heartbeats When issues against women are Comically displayed on televisions. Like there's something to Laugh, guffaw, snicker, snort-- Tell you what, I can name a little Too many synonymous words And I can slap them all to your face, too. I am no longer a suppressed voice, Unable to tell you and all the other people That as a girl (and a woman, later), I have the right to be here. I have the same rights to life, To be alive, to be secure, To have a good life! And yet, you, who calls yourself a Man of power, tells me, "You are nothing." I am angry with the absurdity Of it all. Men continuing to abuse, Women constantly cowering down-- Why are you so intent on showing power When you are not God? Why are you so afraid of fighting For yourself? I am seething with rage For those who refuse to accept Feminism just for the reason That they do not want to be labeled-- Well, guess what? They have already Shoved you underneath Weak and Submissive. Who taught you that you are born To impress men? Who taught you that you only exist To please them? I will not have any of that **** I am a person of my own. I am a human being, with rights. And I AM FIGHTING to have The same rights as you do. Whoever told you that that's Never gonna happen, can shove it up Their ***** I will not sit still on my chair while The next police officer Asks "Well, what were you wearing?" To the next **** victim. You and I both know that is not The issue here. No girl should hung their head in shame That they got touched without consent. It's not their fault! No one Deserves to be ***** And no, it's not snuggling, for you who Even thought **** jokes on t-shirts Are funny. It's not. I am for Gender Equality. For both men and women, Gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, To be treated with equal respect. With equal opportunities. With equality. With no judgment. Why must you counter that? Look, I've been sitting in that same chair For too long while issues spread and get Larger like the plague. I thought, let them handle it. I thought, a small voice would be of no help. But when did sitting down and staring Get people somewhere? When did any of passivity help us? We already have everything to lose So why not fight? Bruce Banner told the other avengers The secret of Hulk. And I tell you the same: Get angry. Smash inequality. I will always be right behind you.
0
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
I am fighting.
I am no longer the Steady thrum of heartbeats When issues against women are Comically displayed on televisions. Like there's something to Laugh, guffaw, snicker, snort-- Tell you what, I can name a little Too many synonymous words And I can slap them all to your face, too. I am no longer a suppressed voice, Unable to tell you and all the other people That as a girl (and a woman, later), I have the right to be here. I have the same rights to life, To be alive, to be secure, To have a good life! And yet, you, who calls yourself a Man of power, tells me, "You are nothing." I am angry with the absurdity Of it all. Men continuing to abuse, Women constantly cowering down-- Why are you so intent on showing power When you are not God? Why are you so afraid of fighting For yourself? I am seething with rage For those who refuse to accept Feminism just for the reason That they do not want to be labeled-- Well, guess what? They have already Shoved you underneath Weak and Submissive. Who taught you that you are born To impress men? Who taught you that you only exist To please them? I will not have any of that **** I am a person of my own. I am a human being, with rights. And I AM FIGHTING to have The same rights as you do. Whoever told you that that's Never gonna happen, can shove it up Their ***** I will not sit still on my chair while The next police officer Asks "Well, what were you wearing?" To the next **** victim. You and I both know that is not The issue here. No girl should hung their head in shame That they got touched without consent. It's not their fault! No one Deserves to be ***** And no, it's not snuggling, for you who Even thought **** jokes on t-shirts Are funny. It's not. I am for Gender Equality. For both men and women, Gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, To be treated with equal respect. With equal opportunities. With equality. With no judgment. Why must you counter that? Look, I've been sitting in that same chair For too long while issues spread and get Larger like the plague. I thought, let them handle it. I thought, a small voice would be of no help. But when did sitting down and staring Get people somewhere? When did any of passivity help us? We already have everything to lose So why not fight? Bruce Banner told the other avengers The secret of Hulk. And I tell you the same: Get angry. Smash inequality. I will always be right behind you.
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81
Laying in my bed curled up Acid in my throat because I didn’t eat Clenching my fists around my blankets because I can’t sleep Are you thinking of me? Laying in a tent, uncomfortably, Snuggling close to your fluffy white dog or your younger brother to stay warm. Are you missing me? No. Not the way I’m missing you You’re not thinking of me the way I’m thinking of you And though it means the world to me that a beautiful soul like yours is friends with a storm cloud like me, it shatters my heart into thousands of sharp, jagged pieces that you’re ~ just ~ my friend. “I’m sorry but I need to know, is it mutual? It’s alright if it’s a no, I can handle it, I just want you...to be honest” A pause... Then the raindrop falls. “Right now, it’s a no” Ripples. Right now. Right now. Right now. No. No. No. STOP. I care about you so much, I know I need to let you go, so you would never read this, and I would never show anyone this. It’s all swirling around in my chest, faster and faster until it explodes, word ***** and tears. I love you. I didn’t tell you I loved you, only that I had feelings for you. Why bother? It would’ve made things more painful for me, more bitter for you. But I can’t show you this. I don’t want you to change. I don’t want you to change the way you speak to me, to change your mind when you’re about to type a heart emoji, to stop yourself after just saying “goodnight” and leave out the “baby” This is my undoing, not yours, and I want you to keep letting me be your anchor, your shoulder, your shield, my open arms waiting to catch you when you tumble from your flight. I can’t keep loving you, I can’t stop loving you. I want to stop feeling at all.
0
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 1:42 AM UTC
45 Miles Apart
Laying in my bed curled up Acid in my throat because I didn’t eat Clenching my fists around my blankets because I can’t sleep Are you thinking of me? Laying in a tent, uncomfortably, Snuggling close to your fluffy white dog or your younger brother to stay warm. Are you missing me? No. Not the way I’m missing you You’re not thinking of me the way I’m thinking of you And though it means the world to me that a beautiful soul like yours is friends with a storm cloud like me, it shatters my heart into thousands of sharp, jagged pieces that you’re ~ just ~ my friend. “I’m sorry but I need to know, is it mutual? It’s alright if it’s a no, I can handle it, I just want you...to be honest” A pause... Then the raindrop falls. “Right now, it’s a no” Ripples. Right now. Right now. Right now. No. No. No. STOP. I care about you so much, I know I need to let you go, so you would never read this, and I would never show anyone this. It’s all swirling around in my chest, faster and faster until it explodes, word ***** and tears. I love you. I didn’t tell you I loved you, only that I had feelings for you. Why bother? It would’ve made things more painful for me, more bitter for you. But I can’t show you this. I don’t want you to change. I don’t want you to change the way you speak to me, to change your mind when you’re about to type a heart emoji, to stop yourself after just saying “goodnight” and leave out the “baby” This is my undoing, not yours, and I want you to keep letting me be your anchor, your shoulder, your shield, my open arms waiting to catch you when you tumble from your flight. I can’t keep loving you, I can’t stop loving you. I want to stop feeling at all.
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36
The beating of a heart As my head lay on his chest Entangled in one another, both body and mind The beating heart continuing on. A new sensation in the veins. The both of them felt it. And a shimmer of laughter painted their faces The same physical tiredness growing Mutual feelings And with that a fiery new seed planted in their hearts. Chemicals were flowing through the veins In the aftermath of the raging fires of their hearts. The breaths began to slow. As the electricity built up in the thick air. She ran her hands through his hair While his arms held her body Tight enough to press her figure against his own Snuggling the two into one. Starlight peeked through the dense forest But other than the dim light, the two lovers are alone. She marvels at such strong feelings she shares for this boy But cannot help but continue on to wonder why such a beautiful experience Is so heavily shamed upon by society. That is not for her to worry now though. And so to the soft murmur of music With nothing but love in each other's hearts, Deep sleep kissed her cheek As he detached himself from her. But for once she was not worried about his departure For they were now connected, Both were aware, Neither was scared or holding back. They were truly in love.
0
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
Untitled
Happiness is hearing your voice Happiness is seeing you smile at me Happiness is your laugh when I say something funny Happiness is your eyes lighting up when you see a dog Happiness is you being happy about cute animals Happiness is playing with your hair Happiness is having your head on my chest Happiness is you snuggling up to me Happiness is hearing you talk about sloths Happiness is you explaining environmental science to me Happiness is kissing you on the nose Happiness is you singing Disney songs Happiness is holding you in my arms Happiness is experiencing something new with you Happiness is making stupid jokes at Barnes and Noble Happiness is a long drive while holding your hand Happiness is your lips on mine Happiness is hearing "I love you" and saying it back Happiness is coming home to you Happiness is falling asleep and waking up next to you Happiness is "just a few more minutes" in the morning Happiness is loving you Happiness is you
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Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
Kady
Basking in postcoital bliss, talking between the sheets catching our breath, giggling with laughter treats Laying in the afterglow, tangled in the sheets sweating cooling skin, and completing greater feats Blissful in post euphoria, feeling quite appeased finding comfort in warm arms, putting me at ease Still sighing, touching, tasting, nuzzled in content reveling in the splendor, our minds and bodies, spent Let me drink, this moment in, before we turn to clocks, wishing only to start again, as seconds ticking  mocks. Snuggling together, eyes and hands so locked wishing for ourselves, more hours, on the clock
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Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
Splendid aftermath (Collaboration with Temporal Fugue)
a draper is someone who creates garments or patterns by draping fabric directly onto a dress form (Wikipedia) ~~~~ I am a draper, by trade, by nature, by instinct; a fling of one arm across her body, while she dreams and sleeps, rambles, mumbles, and even convulses, to hold her tight with two, with both, soon grows discomforting as the blood ceases to flow, the heat breeds unsweetened sweat, and the snuggling impact, is too fast subsumed by the pins and needles numbing, deadening, and ironical attenuation this is my pattern, how I address her, how I dress her, draping my contiguous, drawing five fingers upon her form, reshaping her in her sleep, the arm flung, there, and then there, to be hung, at varied places across her body, higher lower, above below, but her face, free and clear, so not to interfere with her sensory preceptors and as I draw my pattern upon her skin, her body whole, listening her to indeterminate utterances, to determine which pitter patter pattern to which. she feels best suited, then, I prepare my invoice for her, for services rendered, to present upon awakening, demanding in voice, by her voice, payment in words, of her own chosen amuse-bouche, mmmm, will it be? good morning my love? hello you! or just an indiscriminate but yet, a discriminating sound of having been pleasured by unknown forces in her deeper sleep, using her lips to say, to hum, to sing, a genteel unspecific but, and yet, a terrific, deep from within guttural remittance, the sound of a delicious, mmmmmming greeting a new equinoxal gale of a refreshing fresh birthing, fulsome already satisfying draping of the day
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Aug 13, 2025
Aug 13, 2025 at 5:01 PM UTC
The Draper (draw my pattern upon her skin)
a draper is someone who creates garments or patterns by draping fabric directly onto a dress form (Wikipedia) ~~~~ I am a draper, by trade, by nature, by instinct; a fling of one arm across her body, while she dreams and sleeps, rambles, mumbles, and even convulses, to hold her tight with two, with both, soon grows discomforting as the blood ceases to flow, the heat breeds unsweetened sweat, and the snuggling impact, is too fast subsumed by the pins and needles numbing, deadening, and ironical attenuation this is my pattern, how I address her, how I dress her, draping my contiguous, drawing five fingers upon her form, reshaping her in her sleep, the arm flung, there, and then there, to be hung, at varied places across her body, higher lower, above below, but her face, free and clear, so not to interfere with her sensory preceptors and as I draw my pattern upon her skin, her body whole, listening her to indeterminate utterances, to determine which pitter patter pattern to which. she feels best suited, then, I prepare my invoice for her, for services rendered, to present upon awakening, demanding in voice, by her voice, payment in words, of her own chosen amuse-bouche, mmmm, will it be? good morning my love? hello you! or just an indiscriminate but yet, a discriminating sound of having been pleasured by unknown forces in her deeper sleep, using her lips to say, to hum, to sing, a genteel unspecific but, and yet, a terrific, deep from within guttural remittance, the sound of a delicious, mmmmmming greeting a new equinoxal gale of a refreshing fresh birthing, fulsome already satisfying draping of the day
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75
Weeks past Having no motivation to pick myself up The universe smiled upon me And sent a boy with his head in the stars. Blank My mind draws a blank. Having burnt my past I'm speechless My heart races and I can feel my face flush An unexplainable sensation overpowers my body. Starting over. Its almost as if the frozen winter forged a blank slate And the affections from this boy melted away everything... The rush, the butterflies, it all feels new again. Like I have never fallen in love before My new sensations are accompanied by a changed mindset I was truly a new person. Memories from past loves Cannot compare to my heart's newest obsession Such sweet words... Sugar coated but genuine. Everything... His gaze, his walk, his talk It all makes my heartache My tongue is tied as he showers me in compliments Oh his eyes The way he looks at me and tells me I'm beautiful I feel as if im drowning But why? I'm an experienced lover and swimmer. But the fog caused by his intoxicating scent makes my past seem ages ago. Why is this all so fresh... My thoughts are spinning And before I can even ask my mind for advice We're dating. I was following my heart entirely. I'm so stunned It's as if I was wiped clean of my past (and confidence) Starting over.....again. Never thought it would feel so Natural And so the winter trudges on His arms around me keeping the fire alive Snuggling while watching Star Wars Fueling each other's passions. I would have never guessed my fate just a month earlier. Thanks universe.
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Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC
The Sanctuary Part 6
Weeks past Having no motivation to pick myself up The universe smiled upon me And sent a boy with his head in the stars. Blank My mind draws a blank. Having burnt my past I'm speechless My heart races and I can feel my face flush An unexplainable sensation overpowers my body. Starting over. Its almost as if the frozen winter forged a blank slate And the affections from this boy melted away everything... The rush, the butterflies, it all feels new again. Like I have never fallen in love before My new sensations are accompanied by a changed mindset I was truly a new person. Memories from past loves Cannot compare to my heart's newest obsession Such sweet words... Sugar coated but genuine. Everything... His gaze, his walk, his talk It all makes my heartache My tongue is tied as he showers me in compliments Oh his eyes The way he looks at me and tells me I'm beautiful I feel as if im drowning But why? I'm an experienced lover and swimmer. But the fog caused by his intoxicating scent makes my past seem ages ago. Why is this all so fresh... My thoughts are spinning And before I can even ask my mind for advice We're dating. I was following my heart entirely. I'm so stunned It's as if I was wiped clean of my past (and confidence) Starting over.....again. Never thought it would feel so Natural And so the winter trudges on His arms around me keeping the fire alive Snuggling while watching Star Wars Fueling each other's passions. I would have never guessed my fate just a month earlier. Thanks universe.
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46
Nestled high in her loft, she curls into a C, snuggling against my chilled skin, a tranquil warmth pulling our bodies together like a puzzle, the perfect fit. My arm wraps up around her waist and she hugs it to her chest, holding on as if in fear of losing our reality. A stir in the night immediately awakens me to ensure her security, both physically and emotionally. If all is well, an electrifying kiss and hopes of sweet dreams. However, if something is off, maybe an unusual distance, as I can usually sense, I offer my whole self and attention to help soothe her beautiful mind.
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Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
Hold Me Close
THE BOY Alexander understands his father to be a famous lawyer. The leather law books of Alexander's father fill a room like hay in a barn. Alexander has asked his father to let him build a house like bricklayers build, a house with walls and roofs made of big leather law books. The rain beats on the windows And the raindrops run down the window glass And the raindrops slide off the green blinds down the siding. The boy Alexander dreams of Napoleon in John C. Abbott's history, Napoleon the grand and lonely man wronged, Napoleon in his life wronged and in his memory wronged. The boy Alexander dreams of the cat Alice saw, the cat fading off into the dark and leaving the teeth of its Cheshire smile lighting the gloom. Buffaloes, blizzards, way down in Texas, in the panhandle of Texas snuggling close to New Mexico, These creep into Alexander's dreaming by the window when his father talks with strange men about land down in Deaf Smith County. Alexander's father tells the strange men: Five years ago we ran a Ford out on the prairie and chased antelopes. Only once or twice in a long while has Alexander heard his father say "my first wife" so-and-so and such-and-such. A few times softly the father has told Alexander, "Your mother ... was a beautiful woman ... but we won't talk about her." Always Alexander listens with a keen listen when he hears his father mention "my first wife" or "Alexander's mother." Alexander's father smokes a cigar and the Episcopal rector smokes a cigar and the words come often: mystery of life, mystery of life. These two come into Alexander's head blurry and gray while the rain beats on the windows and the raindrops run down the window glass and the raindrops slide off the green blinds and down the siding. These and: There is a God, there must be a God, how can there be rain or sun unless there is a God? So from the wrongs of Napoleon and the Cheshire cat smile on to the buffaloes and blizzards of Texas and on to his mother and to God, so the blurry gray rain dreams of Alexander have gone on five minutes, maybe ten, keeping slow easy time to the raindrops on the window glass and the raindrops sliding off the green blinds and down the siding.
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3.9k
Boy and Father
THE BOY Alexander understands his father to be a famous lawyer. The leather law books of Alexander's father fill a room like hay in a barn. Alexander has asked his father to let him build a house like bricklayers build, a house with walls and roofs made of big leather law books. The rain beats on the windows And the raindrops run down the window glass And the raindrops slide off the green blinds down the siding. The boy Alexander dreams of Napoleon in John C. Abbott's history, Napoleon the grand and lonely man wronged, Napoleon in his life wronged and in his memory wronged. The boy Alexander dreams of the cat Alice saw, the cat fading off into the dark and leaving the teeth of its Cheshire smile lighting the gloom. Buffaloes, blizzards, way down in Texas, in the panhandle of Texas snuggling close to New Mexico, These creep into Alexander's dreaming by the window when his father talks with strange men about land down in Deaf Smith County. Alexander's father tells the strange men: Five years ago we ran a Ford out on the prairie and chased antelopes. Only once or twice in a long while has Alexander heard his father say "my first wife" so-and-so and such-and-such. A few times softly the father has told Alexander, "Your mother ... was a beautiful woman ... but we won't talk about her." Always Alexander listens with a keen listen when he hears his father mention "my first wife" or "Alexander's mother." Alexander's father smokes a cigar and the Episcopal rector smokes a cigar and the words come often: mystery of life, mystery of life. These two come into Alexander's head blurry and gray while the rain beats on the windows and the raindrops run down the window glass and the raindrops slide off the green blinds and down the siding. These and: There is a God, there must be a God, how can there be rain or sun unless there is a God? So from the wrongs of Napoleon and the Cheshire cat smile on to the buffaloes and blizzards of Texas and on to his mother and to God, so the blurry gray rain dreams of Alexander have gone on five minutes, maybe ten, keeping slow easy time to the raindrops on the window glass and the raindrops sliding off the green blinds and down the siding.
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23
By Arcassin Burnham "~Snuggling~" Marsha Ambrosius smell, Wait!! How I do I know how she smells? Well nevermind, So mixed with wasting our time, Of blabbering on how beautiful you look, When we should be snuggling under the stars, They took, A lot away from you and me, Sacrifice so much for you and me, Please leave without bad memories, If I die would you cry, Would you plead, I'm just waiting for a little bliss, Waiting for a sincere beautiful atmosphere, Waiting for affection, Waiting for a kiss, I plead........ "K.O.C.A" .... To be your rock, When you need someone to lean on, My heart is made of stone, Aside from feelings that can't be shown, But I won't say leave me alone, Truthfully a life without you, Is a crisis, So please don't leave me gone, We play childishly, But when we make the sweetest love, I'm indebted to your open casualties, As tender as a prime cooked rib, Show it out of me, The feelings that I give, I would die without you, Baby I wanna live, I'm too young to die, You are too, So why don't we die together, Let the flowers bloom.
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May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
"~Snuggling~ / Kiss of Childless Affection" (A Touch Of Skin mEP)
My Ideal Man: 1. Watch nerdy movies with me, you'll get my heart quicker if you love Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and superhero movies along with me. 2. Be a Bruins fan please. Or at least a hockey fan, but Bruins is preferable. 3. Be kind. Don't do things just for yourself. If you see someone struggling help them. 4. Be patient. My family and I are nuts, and I'm so sorry about that, but we love with our whole hearts, and you'll never find people who care for you more, or will do anything for you. 5. Tolerate my musical preferences. I listen to quite a wide range of music, so bear with me. 6. When I'm sick, just let me watch a Disney movie, give me space (because when I'm sick I feel far from pretty, and have a tendency to not want to be around people) and I will love you forever. 7. Have faith. You don't have to be ridiculously religious, but believe in heaven and God. 8. Please have a functioning moral compass. 9. Don't question the TV shows I watch. (Ex. Game of Thrones, Project Runway, Friends) 10. Have a good relationship with your parents and siblings. 11. Be a dog lover, I'm going to want dogs when I live with someone (and I'm so sorry we can only get hypoallergenic ones) 12. Accept the fact that I tell my mum almost everything. If I know, likely she will know unless you make it very apparent that you don't want anyone to know. 13. Don't lie. Just don't. 14. Don't cheat. That should be obvious, but I've been through it before and I don't think I could handle it again. 15. Yes I'm a child when it comes to the little things in life. I love ice cream sundaes, coloring, Spongebob, and most adolescent things. Let it be. 16. If you have something bothering you, talk to me. Communication is key and I can't read minds, no matter how hard I try. 17. Be able to laugh at yourself, I do all the time at myself because most of the time I know I'm foolish. 18. Never underestimate snuggling. Unless it's really hot out. 19. Be spontaneous. Lord knows sometimes I do some strange things for no reason, but as long as they bring joy to someone or yourself, then do it. 20. Love with your whole heart. growing list
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
Seeking Someone for the Rest of Forever
My Ideal Man: 1. Watch nerdy movies with me, you'll get my heart quicker if you love Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and superhero movies along with me. 2. Be a Bruins fan please. Or at least a hockey fan, but Bruins is preferable. 3. Be kind. Don't do things just for yourself. If you see someone struggling help them. 4. Be patient. My family and I are nuts, and I'm so sorry about that, but we love with our whole hearts, and you'll never find people who care for you more, or will do anything for you. 5. Tolerate my musical preferences. I listen to quite a wide range of music, so bear with me. 6. When I'm sick, just let me watch a Disney movie, give me space (because when I'm sick I feel far from pretty, and have a tendency to not want to be around people) and I will love you forever. 7. Have faith. You don't have to be ridiculously religious, but believe in heaven and God. 8. Please have a functioning moral compass. 9. Don't question the TV shows I watch. (Ex. Game of Thrones, Project Runway, Friends) 10. Have a good relationship with your parents and siblings. 11. Be a dog lover, I'm going to want dogs when I live with someone (and I'm so sorry we can only get hypoallergenic ones) 12. Accept the fact that I tell my mum almost everything. If I know, likely she will know unless you make it very apparent that you don't want anyone to know. 13. Don't lie. Just don't. 14. Don't cheat. That should be obvious, but I've been through it before and I don't think I could handle it again. 15. Yes I'm a child when it comes to the little things in life. I love ice cream sundaes, coloring, Spongebob, and most adolescent things. Let it be. 16. If you have something bothering you, talk to me. Communication is key and I can't read minds, no matter how hard I try. 17. Be able to laugh at yourself, I do all the time at myself because most of the time I know I'm foolish. 18. Never underestimate snuggling. Unless it's really hot out. 19. Be spontaneous. Lord knows sometimes I do some strange things for no reason, but as long as they bring joy to someone or yourself, then do it. 20. Love with your whole heart. growing list
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22
Come over here. We bought this love seat for a reason. No use in wasting such a lovely purchase. Good Lord, no. My only motivation is proper stewardship of our possessions, you gorgeous man. No, I don’t have secret agenda of snuggling and reading a book curled up in the nook of your arm. Just sit yourself down here and read your literature. We won’t talk. We will sit silently. Absorbing. Inhaling. If I reach over to your arm, don’t flinch. Just curl to my shape. Just grip my shoulder like it is a pen and you are a writer. Then write about my not-so-unknown intentions in your margins.
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Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
Ikea Not In Vain
His eyes reminded me of what the grand canyon might look like,                     they whispered warmth like the sun                     snuggling the earth.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
Amber Gems
She wakes me up deep in the night. I understand you, she smiles snuggling into me, her nose, pressed cotton soft on my cheek I have no strength, I cry not one, for you I love your weakness love you for your weakness her breath wafts into mine and the boy stuck in his age floats in the web of the girl forever forgiving.
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Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 9:20 AM UTC
Strength
So many hopes have been laid to rest, snuggling tight and cozy where all dead dreams lie. There wasn't even time to say goodbye. Oh, my fighting spirit is now a sleeping spirit. It doesn't wake to sweet smell of fancy, to the buzzing of bees and all manner of honeys, no. It lies dead in the gutter, or should I say, asleep. The only hope I have left, is to lie of the pain. To wish away the wash of bitter taste and lie away the bodies of thought and waste. I have died too many times to count the carnage and how I massacred myself, past, present and future, there is no more potential, there is now just a rein lying slack for lack of force, the beast was too burdened... There is a constant whispering. Voices from a place I dare not venture. My hands are bent and scarred, like twisted puppets. How can I mend these broken dreams? I can no longer traverse the seams, now torn beyond are the hopes I knew. How do I mend the horses? Is it not the hand of God that restores life to dead things? Why do his hands look like mine? If I do not believe in myself, how might I believe in him?
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Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 9:06 PM UTC
The Whispers of Dead Dreams...
It's is the most wonderful time of the year Snow on the ground A cold breeze blowing about Children and Adults Opening presents Lovers spend time snuggling And kissing under a mistletoe I love Christmas.
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Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 5:50 PM UTC
Christmas
this morning as i groggily rolled onto my back and felt the weight of the blanket draped across my body i briefly thought you were lying atop me my face buried in your shoulder my lips gently pressing against your neck and then quickly gravitating downwards repeatedly kissing the spot where your neck and shoulder meet so as to make you shiver against me and smile brighter than the morning sun snuggling against me more so that i could wrap my arms and lift my legs around you both of us sleepy but bathed in the morning light and so i laid there for two minutes past my alarm lost in the everlasting euphoria that just the thought of you can bring wishing that maybe just maybe i was only dreaming that you weren't there
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Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
the morning after
Falling in love is weird Because at first you don't expect Anything except for passion And romance And story book perfection But when you fall head over heels for someone Someday things are going to move Beyond Beyond kissing, and hot touches Sometime things are going to move To laughing openly And fighting Using hard words you never thought you would Farting during the most Intimate moments Teasing Playing Falling in love is weird Because when I was younger I pictured White weddings, and chapels I pictured hand holding, and snuggling in bed I pictured kissing, and romantic candle lit dinners But when I fell in love I didn't think of ***** laundry, or morning breath I never pictured the messy wax residue left from candles Or the dishes But I guess there are things You don't expect When you fall in love But when you find them It's a little bit better Because I'd rather wash your ***** underwear Than anyone else's And that's love
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 12:51 AM UTC
When You Fall In Love
Alice sits in the room with blackboard and easel and small desk and small chair with Nanny stern and strict pointing at the blackboard with her stick teaching her her letters the grammar paragraphs sentences by long rote and command and Alice knows now that any cause of Nanny's discontent will bring her punishment her father's hard hand smacks whack and whack she sits still taking note but bored she stares out high windows at tall tree tops and blue skies thinking of her mother locked away (ill in her head Nanny coldly said) then she thinks of her new adoptive mother who works below stairs(low stairs her father often says) the one with the red raw fingers thin and young who secretly said she would be her new adopted mother but to strive to learn to do her best and so she does but thinks of the time when lessons are over she can sneak down below stairs and along passageways to where her adoptive new mother works and feel her embrace her earthy smell her soft cheek against that rough cloth of apron the red fingers caressing her long hair whispering words but still the nanny drones on the lesson now taking its toll boredom sinking in wishing her adoptive mother would come and take her away for a walk to the horse stables or into town holding her hand the red hand holding her pink one or dreams of snuggling up to her in her bed feeling her motherly tender warmth but Nanny still drones on the long lesson word on word keeping her from the arms and caress and earthy smell of cloth of her new adoptive young mother below stairs Alice yawns secretly her small hand over mouth knowing this blowing soft from her palm to her young adoptive mother a secret kiss.
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Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 1:53 AM UTC
ALICE AND THE SECRET KISS.
Alice sits in the room with blackboard and easel and small desk and small chair with Nanny stern and strict pointing at the blackboard with her stick teaching her her letters the grammar paragraphs sentences by long rote and command and Alice knows now that any cause of Nanny's discontent will bring her punishment her father's hard hand smacks whack and whack she sits still taking note but bored she stares out high windows at tall tree tops and blue skies thinking of her mother locked away (ill in her head Nanny coldly said) then she thinks of her new adoptive mother who works below stairs(low stairs her father often says) the one with the red raw fingers thin and young who secretly said she would be her new adopted mother but to strive to learn to do her best and so she does but thinks of the time when lessons are over she can sneak down below stairs and along passageways to where her adoptive new mother works and feel her embrace her earthy smell her soft cheek against that rough cloth of apron the red fingers caressing her long hair whispering words but still the nanny drones on the lesson now taking its toll boredom sinking in wishing her adoptive mother would come and take her away for a walk to the horse stables or into town holding her hand the red hand holding her pink one or dreams of snuggling up to her in her bed feeling her motherly tender warmth but Nanny still drones on the long lesson word on word keeping her from the arms and caress and earthy smell of cloth of her new adoptive young mother below stairs Alice yawns secretly her small hand over mouth knowing this blowing soft from her palm to her young adoptive mother a secret kiss.
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I hate this time of year. Everyone's always singing stupid christmas songs and wearing even stupider sweaters. People say 'bah humbug', I say **** it*. I hate the cold and snow. The getting totally twisted off of disgusting eggnog and falling into bed with your best friend only to regret it in the morning. I hate that everyone's so giggly and rosy cheeked. The old men in the malls posing as the overweight **** that watches us all while we're sleeping. I hate the gaudy wrapping paper hiding pointless gifts no one really needs. And the people who're usually ******** kissing up to get something good. I hate how lovey-dovey everyone is, holding hands and snuggling in public places. And how everyone has someone to kiss when the ball drops on New Years. Everyone but me.
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Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 10:50 AM UTC
Winter Blues
I feel the whispers of the Mistress And the smooth hands of the Mister The gentle embrace of the beautiful He And the masculine lips of the handsome She Four lovers whom fill my heart Different genders I shall never care I shall never care about skin color, gender identification, or hair Religion, region, since when did it all matter I'll just love who I love because of their beautiful personality and wonderful attributes. I could care less if I go to hell I'd do it for these beautiful people I'll kiss who I want to kiss Hug who I want to hug **** who  I want to **** Touch who I want to touch I'll be as close or as much of a stranger to whoever I please Because it is my life Not a phony god's, not my parents', not yours It is mine I love the smell of her floral scented hair I love the warm feeling of snuggling with him I love the sweet words of she who wants to be a he And the fun times with he who wants to be a she All the beautiful friends, lovers, and family I have Why can't they be free To love who they want to And same goes for me I want to be able to hold and marry and kiss my future lover Just let us love It is not your life to control Or to judge Or to spectate We are made of the same red blood as you Eat the same food Dress the same dress We are all normal people like you
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Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
I am Pans and Trans. Get over it
dinner Greenport-side, watching the shuffling ferries do their sworn duty, a back ‘n forth wearisome toll, while we sip a rose and a PBR, respectively and with respect no enthusiasm afterward for anything but an early off to bed, and slip into pj’s asap me in my knackered wholly Hanes fundie knickers, no thinking required but she retires, re-attires in a summery combo, a gray sweat t-shirt and green and white plaid pj pants which she is unawares are my favorites cause they lop off fifty years, a teenage woman re-incarnate recreated cause her figure now womanly full, better than then morning awake l, a disturbance of the peace, recall a snuggling a wake up hug, and her bottoms conspicuously gone missing over break fast I inquire over yogurt and berries and a smoked mozzarella omelette, what happened to those plaid bottoms? assuming I was innocent of any transgressions as best I could recall with a sheepish childlike grin, that made look like she was twenty again, to match the now yoga toned body, she confesses: forgot to tie the bowstrings and they slipped down to my ankles blessed and cursed I thought! too much of a gentleman to take advantage, AND my situational awareness was slipping badly, but when a poem comes across, ready and pre-writ, I’m still young enough to grab aholt of it and never let go 6/23/18
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Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 2:42 PM UTC
Friday Night Immodesty Redressed II
Red; Your fire red hair and freckles that cover your pale body; Orange; Your soft, sweet kisses that you place upon my cheek and lips; Yellow; Your hugs that warm me up when I'm sad or upset; Green; Your big beautiful eyes that I could get lost in just staring at them; Blue; The tears that stroll down my face when I'm not with you; Purple; The passion I feel when cuddling, snuggling, or falling asleep with you; Pink; Every time you compliment me, or give me kisses, I blush; Black; The pain I feel, or the darkness I go into when I feel alone; Every color that I have written down, Reminds me of why I have fallen in love with you. You are my "Happily Ever After", My favorite part of each day, And my sunshine to my cloudy and rainy days;
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Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 9:07 AM UTC
Color
A princess and a puppy, sit at Daddy's feet. Cuddling and snuggling, He gives His love to each.
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
A princess and a puppy
That happiest moments come in childhood When innocence combed ones hair And Saturdays bring respite Bedrooms lined with a few toys While two fair ground ballerinas Curtesy on a white wood mantelpiece. Then that snuggling down to sleep Under homemade feather eiderdown Hot lemon and sugar brought in a glass The certainty of mother's voice Climbing the stairs with wine gums. Even if time stretched patience It arrival brought only surprises And leaf rubbings on paper Were treasured achiements Displayed in cardboard mounts. Love Mary x
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Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 12:22 PM UTC
I think if I was to say