I can die a hundred times in thine eyes I’d be blind and read braille off of your facade I can settle there and be a happy person on the streets This will be me majority of my time and less t…
First battalion dead Fried worse are the second ones From king to Cretin How to avoid this? How about using your head Hmm a guillotine Les ants worse once small Leaders looking for yo…
There are many things
that I could do without
a world with no sunsets
flowers and their bloom
I don’t need the dawn
to start each new day
nor the stars and moon
to illuminate the night
now If I could learn how
to breathe without air
then perhaps I could teach
myself to live without you
Photo of Allie taken by me.
A tiny puff of wind
covertly breezed into the room
and elicited a little squirm, rhythmed
from beloved Olivia in full bloom
His tempted tongue, quivering
unfurled her moist nether lips in heat
she moaned, her arched hips wriggling
Holy! What a treat!
He thrust inside with pleasure
gently circling her pink pearl, aroused
so sultry was his muse’s gesture
it left him in utter wows
He fondled, kissed and licked her
savouring the juices nectarean
He sucked over and over
revelling in that one moment utopian
The intensity of her sensations heightened
till she pressed herself against her bourgeois
He captured the glow in her face, enlightened
as she finally let out an ecstatic ‘Ahh’
It was for a time necessary,
this soft porch light painting
everything in a hazy ray.
The moon looking down
with gentle eyes. The scene
taking on an artistic quality.
For a moment you forget
the hail and rain that came
before, remembering only
a tranquil breeze and the calm
that came after. Your Milky Way brain
tinged with only things that brighten.
You become poet and astrologer.
Yesterday’s rainbow still in
your mind’s view. You choose to forget
the unbending hardwoods or how
the horizon constantly shifted.
Tonight you only see light,
and your forest green heart banishes nothing.
How certain you are of daisies and clover.
You don’t acknowledge the stone wall or
how you stubbed your soul. Knowing you’ll be
nostalgic until the old ache decides
to diminish and finally moves along.
For now you avoid the pine needles,
and carry on.
Whooshes into me
Like a gust of wind
Through an open door
And I see you
Everywhere I go.
As for me,
Too much feeling
Too little body
Leak out the pain
To the dead.
-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore
Hello, my lovely friends. How have you all been? I know this is getting old, but sorry for disappearing on all of you. I will be fairly regular after the first week of May. Also, I’m thinking about starting a weekly feature where I will post guest posts. What do you guys think of this? Let me know. 🙂
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