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You and I sometimes speak in energies,
our auras reach out, connect, and entwine.
Like when you call out from another room
to me in the shower, just to tell me
that I am loved, when--unknown
to you--just moments before, I was trapped
in my head, apologizing still
for something I did a year ago.

You are the most attractive to me
when that's the way you feel.
You pull me into you with big brown eyes
and lashes long enough to do it alone.
Your hands, up behind your head,
effortless, and you smile to one side
while your hair just perfectly
swoops to the other, and there
was never another option; I am yours.
When people ask me
Why poetry
Why not pick a paying profession

Take hold this truth
That I'm laying on you
In which there is a valuable lesson

If you do what you like
You're going to find
Life holds treasure in wonder

Instead of the dough
Taking you out in its tow
And then pulling you under

When you're doing things
Think more the gifts they bring
And not money to be made

When people ask me
Why poetry
Do I really need to say
I want gold to drip from my tongue.
As if to drench my words with importance.
I want it to leak out and sit atop my head like a crown.
When I speak to you with kindness,
When I speak to you with love,
to show that I am no longer bowing down.
Because I am dipped in gold and a queen of sunshine.
And I will no longer let memories of you steal the warmness inside me-
My hands may still be cold
But I have a fire heart that you can no longer put out.

- for all the boys who try to make you fall to your knees remind them you are a force to be reckoned with.
there is no humane way to harm an animal
i say as you smoothly run the knife over my stomach
i am spilling out all over you
as you roll your cigarettes and touch my *******-
you do not look at the photographs i take
you do not read my poems
i am only a skeleton to you.
mount me on your wall
there is no humane way to ****** an animal
Tear into my flesh
Watch my body rot.
As it stretches and rolls and turns a pale green-
You know there is no humane way to ****** an animal-
But you like the taste.
I can smell it
The death dripping from yr mouth
deep crimson making a home for itself on your t-shirt
now,
It is 2:39 a.m. in west virginia,
You’ve been sitting in yr car for 2 hours.
On your phone searching for the perfect flowers
And how to repent for your sins
Jesus sits on the cross-
The cemetery is an hour away.
Smoke another cigarette-
You’ve got time.
back on my *******
for jul**

she asks a-rat-a-tat sensible
peppering of questions;
“why do I give away my poems so easy and so fast, why me”

the answer so readily apparent,
so easy peasy lemon squeezy,
my style is who you are!

every-oft and every-then,
a leader-reader believes my words
so profound so entire so joyful wonderful!
that title passes there and then

a poem without a dedication but a-dressed-up-lovely
without a ^hat,^  missing the zing of panache
that makes its DNA complete, then someone comes along
who loves it so more than enough, placing that rakish angled love with a bejeweled hat pin just so, and that hat makes
the poem so much more, the jewel whispering confirmation
vive la différence!

so a dedication to/is

purest dedication -
exactly!

and this one
a jewel for the poem
for jul
be a
just
be cause






5:47am
<•>
 May 2018 Isabella Rosemary
Denny
I'm shooting for her heart with my finger on the trigger.
Put your heart in the air
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