Open Poetry #41 |
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ladybird cashmere |
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Dark Stranger Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631West Coast ![]() |
twisting past the mystery like the wind when she is long knowing the ends of circles like fingertips at whispering my eyes worship your brook books covers of sky and meadows with unwritten in their middles oreos of scent and color you know me as your own name now there is no skin under my armor nor brittle at my seams only the windows of my soul and what dead man would ever sleep when you were bathing a dawn with the bosom of your dance and the thighs of your writhe lest you slay him with your hedon _____________ logography by daark scribblenote hedon ie hedonism |
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Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676with you |
"you know me as your own name now there is no skin under my armor nor brittle at my seams only the windows of my soul" soft side showing...very nice ![]() |
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Gentle Spirit Member Patricius
since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989 |
They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul...lovely windows here D. nice. ![]() |
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Dark Stranger Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631West Coast |
suesea, thanks babe, for the eyes ___________ ms donna thank you for the touch |
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