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Early Sunday MorningsAlwaysThe dawn breaks at her knotted fingersWhere she weepsOver bantam flour pyramids, drifts of her memories frailMistaken for s..
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Your lips infused with honey, kiss my lonely ones,My salty plumesOpen of tiny minuets, off-scale notesNeither sharps, nor flats, nor sufficient stacca..
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Salty air hits my nose, envelopes
my tongue
Making love to my senses
apart
In June
Sweltering hot sun beats
hard at my skin
..
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Idle portion profile, the old man kept stillhe sitssickly, wide grinned jackalthe neighbor retracts his familiarityfaux designs of a complimentary "he..
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While you are gone
You live inside everything
Your existence lingers on the air
Casting your voice to the shadows
Trapped in the breeze
You b..
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Winters
Snow
Looking upon the last touch of winters silent embrace
Gentle falling snow lights up the hollow naked of the sleeping earth..
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Without her...
The world cries with the intention of her move
The brush strokes get lost in the far away canvas
The old drips on the floor..
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I'd appreciate any thought or comments on this one-Thanks!
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A piece written for the memorial of my twin sister. We created a tribute for the anniversary of her death- we all gave something or a form of art, to ..
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I want time to be of no relevance
I want the raw pain of a deep love to be aside from its intolerance
I want the truth to be far subtracted from a..
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