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Re: Just pieces ...
Naumadd said Jan 23, 7:56 PM:
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Rough rhymes discarded, unpolished dreams left for ants. Curiosities.
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Ants check my spelling nightly, as fires turn to dreams - An amusing kindness.
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Think carefully, ant - this enticing tiled plain is guarded by cats.
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Consumed in passions, love's breath, your peaches revealed. Line of ants applauds.
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Strolling in cold woods, your harsh last words warming me. Sympathetic ants.
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My love, oh, my love just time and space between us - unfleshed love within.
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Moon through the forest crowd, winks at fairies, “Come flitter!” Come keep me from dreams.
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Decompressed edges, overfed terrors imagined - relaxed to breed new coils.
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Times will not wink out. Ends race like full eclipses - a wall of shadow.
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Pole of relative inaccessibility - peace, farthest from you.
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A crowd of people - puzzles withing dense puzzles, Falling, pulling loose.
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It's worth cracking knees - tired lovemaking's why I live. What else could there be?
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You prey for escape, but shallow habit is missed when it's all you have.
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What you do not want can seem austere next to dreams, … but austere has place.
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Our depth of spirit brings depth to godless heavens. We “god” the old stars.
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Dream Earth. Sleep land, sleep. Rest 'til season calls your name. Sleep land - dream Earth dreams.
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Sins need confessing. Only life presses report. Waste no time on “gods.”
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It's lies that age you, not sliding of days to nights. Lies. Sharp, ripping lies.
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Your legs wrapped in love are no small moral lessons. Love the flesh. Flesh love.
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Can't we speak of it all? What feeds the flesh? What burns away? Why just half the tale?
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We impersonate. We claim angels among us. We are meat - that's all.
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Unencompassed life - the spilling flesh and spirit, evolved DNA.
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Taste for solitude, I venture into strange thoughts. Coiled spoils, far from you.
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Trouble planning days - fogged minds can't read calendars. ' rather read my love.
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Chapters in her eyes, her hands - complex metaphors. Novels in her parts.
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The whole mess of her scrapes me from remnant shadows, feeds me wild nethers.
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Graces extracted, what's left of the human meat? Grace unexpected.
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Time fades from skies. Skeletons called “memory” cool in the night's breeze.
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