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youare the stone fence I walkedalong, running my finger tips againstthe rough edge, lazy on a summerday, head tilting to the sun.you are the cherry bl..
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These
stones hold
pockets
of tears, of
sweat,
of longing~
hopes
long dead and
gone.
In
the dust
an
inkling, an echo
..
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Manifold darkness,hiding in shadowwith the cold breeze of practiced indifferenceguarding against the trickleof a bleeding heart.The ice encasesand sti..
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For Frieda...this is not at all what I set out to write, but what can you do? The muse has a mind of its own. Still needs work.
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Can Iscream any louder?Will my lidded temples holdthis pressure cooker build upas it bubbling bursts, spittingfire against your abysmal walls?F**k thi..
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for
all my goodbyes
a
blossom comes
grinning
like aBuddhachild
with
eyes wide
wondering
falling
from grace
as
it sits ..
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How
does this god of yours see
this
small blue speck floating
in
a black dark sea,
a
needle in the darkness.
Does
this reflected li..
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What
dreams may come
to
soft bare eyelids
as
they blameless slumber
swiftly
with
no warning
biting
at your heels
and
digging..
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I ride these cresting waves with youand when at last you bring me to the shoreI find that a fist has crept upand holds tight these wordsas a rock atop..
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You cannot hidethe tender strong handthat guides your willthe ways that you seewhat others cannotthe way you sit and ponderfeed a wandering birdfrom y..
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