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Running a finger upon the spines
Treasures of unrequited wit
It can be difficult to wear a smile
When you always feel like shit
Fingerprints on the dusty shelves
Disfigured; in need of some rest
Looking for inspiration in the pages
Slowly drowning despite doing my best
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Sheets & reams of the nonsensical
Literary blood lost in the shadow of ink The lifeforce of a simmering soul Marginal hearts writing love against the kitchen sink
Leaving behind the caricature of an artist Contributions to society felt in these empty sheets Fingersmudges marking pages not so white Starkly exposed with revolutionary words in the streets Traces of hereditary ideals eroding away Igniting pages shall still be a stilted sin Yet we rise again from our desert floor Eternally grateful our finite letters aren’t porcelain
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I trace your lips with my finger
Such pouty perfection in this face I want to devour you right here But in public is not the proper place So I whisper one word: “tonight” & let you think upon that all day You’ll stew & simmer & imagine How all this love will be conveyed Like this: Like Loading...
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A finger to my lips
Fixated on your secrets encased Knowing the enchanting stories You’re upon what fairytales are based
Remaining silent with restraint
For that is your required desire Locked into your heavenly eyes Nothing greater than stoking your primal fire Like this: Like Loading...
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Just wanting these eyes to close & slowly linger
Fatigue from society & the domesticated sheep Intentionally & lightly dipping her ginger fingers Focused breaths when you only wish to sleep Like this: Like Loading...
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Leaning against the doorframe
Draped in my best dress shirt I see you’re in for fun & games Already cleaned of the day’s dirt
You tease me with a wink
For your essence, I’m a glutton Every moment my willpower shrinks As I watch you finger the last button Like this: Like Loading...
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Trying to recreate life
In spite of these ink-stained fingers
The smudges in the interior margins
Forgotten, yet where light tends to linger
These days aren’t so easily understood
I contradict back onto myself
Leaving traces in my erratic wake
All I know – Love has been my only true wealth Like this: Like Loading...
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Rubbing their fingers over the stereo knob
The frequencies distorted on the airwaves Kings of the new world & thus apocalyptic Searching for something more pragmatic to crave
These technocrats with no concept of reality
Tasking – without offering an alternate fate Demanding citizens for homages to be digital With no power to control – or else we attenuate
Words of peace have the chance to amplify
Even when we’re feeling out of time/out of sync Don’t need their fiber optic lies to survive A blind man loses all when forced to blink
Tapping into a passion without any circuits
Our transistors are live; we’re lovers thus discrete There’s no stopping us when their signal’s weak There’s nothing but fire & sparks when our wires meet
This life is forever altered now we’re here
Do not attempt to adjust the squelch You’re listening to Radio Free America Standing proud & robust like Raquel Welch Like this: Like Loading...
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Just because you’re the inspiration
Doesn’t mean you’re the intended
Taking what life gives us
Even those not comprehended
Just because you’re the muse
Doesn’t mean you’re the truth
Finding open sores upon the soul
Lingering there since early youth
Just because you’re the source
Doesn’t mean you’re all that real
Gone once my fingers close
You’re merely a ghost my heart can feel Like this: Like Loading...