[link]


heart BeatNames rise and Fall in jagged lines or ripple with curled Es, Tell a pulse, tell of and to me. From smudged photographs, to the faces I have to blot and black out now The lights I left for each foot I kissed Are dead, exhausted ash that still breathe, still wheeze, when Sleep flutters beneath the surface, Moth ghosts and grit, the dust Returned.heart Beat


The Answerby fog-free eyes your lines are greeted my morning dreams have all retreated from your simple rhymes and rhythm clearing my mind into a prism for the offering from your lightened heart's purse is a shiny new "I love you" to reimburse and still yet another one with pleasure, since when you hold out your hand, I'm the treasure melting to golden pools each time I'm made precious and diamond-eyed you can watch my heart stock climb oh yes your words make silver(-covered platinum) lines. But to try to lock them in a vault of time Would be no more your fault thThe Answer


StarsThis afternoon mirrors The last that leaned on its elbows, heavily before it landed on the black grass. Thoughts of your eyesStars
And their silver sills of teardrops Will glimmer in my mind until my heart stops.
Satellites and stars Remember dear how near We are
Lamplights and beaming cars Remember dear how this here Has come this far
Hands heavy with cold Our feet moved like floorboards That shift the strain
from side to side With a lean curling creak Splintering the silence With a sigh That stays l


Birth of red.If I fell in love with a wave That tucked itself away Then I am left with a new lip of river tugging down the top of my hand And it startsBirth of red.
and ends again And again and Even with an even flow I never know The river I fell into. So, so The pages furl Another day penned, is with Black dots, seeds dropped in neat Lines, for the rose of Tomorrow to stem from, like a budding tear Barely balancing, then bold, Reckless from such swollen sorrow That it bears being seen (Prey for predators
*tear*
--
COMMISSIONS...ART BLOG...Want to Colour?
--
COMMISSIONS...ART BLOG...Want to Colour?
--
"One man's Voltaire is another man's Screech."
-Dennis Miller
--
oh the push and pull of everything
oh this nightmare of electricity
we are the living dead, yeah the living dead
that's the way it is
that's the way it's always been
Free Porn
Previous Page12Next Page