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by jordan Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Poetry · Other · #1700557
Freestyley
" O Dulcinea, my princess! Sovereign of this captive heart! Grievous wrong hast thou done me by dismissing me and by cruelly forbidding me by decree to appear in thy beauteous presence. I pray thee, sweet lady, to remember this poor enslaved heart, which for love of thee suffers so many pangs. "

                                - Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra, " Don Quixote "



" If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see? "

                              - Lewis Carroll, " Alice In Wonderland "







Says she wants it something awful.
Me too.
In the worst kind of way.
Slip quiet into dark,
Smooth fluid movement,
Blacked out head to toe,
Precise and without error.
The night is beautiful
And I'm here only in the flesh.

Daydreamer for life.

Half awake or half asleep
At any given time,
Can't even tell the difference anymore...

Got control issues.

Which makes me think of her naked makes me think of drippy sweaty body heat makes me think of kinky.
Reminds me of fucking.

Yeah.

Daytripped overlapped reruns
Of fantasy past and present.
Somewhere along the line,
I went through my twenties...

The prospect of mortality becoming very real now.

And time as my new motivational technique.

Lazy, calm, serene.
Even smiling.

French vanilla clouds
Breath and swirl like non-dairy creamer,
In semi-slow motion,
Kiss and drift lazily
Under marshmallow cocoa puff skies.

Sweet dreams like a type two diabetic.

Blurring reality and lines most consistently.

And loving the fuck out of it.

Remains ambiguous,
True to ones self,
True blue baby,
True blue.

Thinking transcends dimension

And her pornographic eyes snap crisp shots of hope,
Flash fragments of uninterupted brilliance.

Maybe shes born with it.

Maybe its tangerines.

But my eyes, yeah.
They taste her all over missing nothing,
Licking hungrily like a greedy dog.

In and out

Of semi-consciousness,
Our souls disintegrate
And emerge effortlessly.

As I wake to her presciousness in Santa Fe
The warm glow of her skin radiates

Mocha espresso butter

With lemon zest and warm tingly sensations.

Desert heat infecting my heart in a button trance.

Sonic blasts of air
Belt across the face

Like a mutated atomic blowdryer

And the slow unnerving drone of a dissosciative.

She touches me with angel skin

And

I respond i-n-s-t-a-n-t-l-y.

We still don't speak
And I am not sure I can take it any longer.

But as they say:

Buenas son las mangas despues de Pascua

Or

Its better late then never.

Tranquil almost sedated

But not.

Her eyes glazed twice over

We embrace slowly once again.

Tantric sex in eternal moonshine,

My desert rose!

So happy I could cry...

Wrapped in afterglow we dream,

Our bodies roll gentle strokes of appreciation,

In waves of increasing watermelon salt water

And drift together out to sea.






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