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"unword" poems
Body Two bodies, in a bed, on a quilt in a field, in the backseat of an '88 Nissan Pathfinder. Two bodies, touching, squeezing, caressing, biting. Blood, pooling under the skin, rushing to the brain, rushing to the genitals, sticky/hot. ****** candy, the curve of lips around a lollipop, the drinking of whiskey from the bottle, the burning sensation of MDMA insufflation. Clothes strewn across your mother's kitchen, ice cubes traced down spines, ******* ******** Oral *** with ice cubes in the mouth. Frequent ************ and a sense of unwellbeing, if you'll allow me this one usage of an unword (I can't help myself)
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
A Portrait of the Artist Desiring ****** Touch.
At the time the words seemed right And might of been then but now somehow they don't Regret isn't something that binds me down So once I open my mouth And let the sounds out They're on their own A traveling *** Jumping from train to train But these jump from ear to ear Whether or not you choose to hear The letters I've thrown together were beautiful Only in my head And if words could **** Maybe I've saved some lives By holding them inside A self sacrifice Because they're eating me alive.
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May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC
Unword