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Literature Text
My breasts - juicy plums.
Sink your teeth in them and drink.
Soon their taste will fade.
Sink your teeth in them and drink.
Soon their taste will fade.
Literature
December
December Wine
Decant December wine
The best saved for end
of the year
held in fond anticipation
Traveling slick hills on sleigh rides
of old
Reliving the thrills over
fine age and spirit
A day we hold dear
it is worth far more than gold
I see a star pale and strong
hear glorious wind
made of song --
holy choirs singing
There is sacrament in desire
Wonders of will, of intensity
wild like the sweet breath
of winter
Drink in the joy of being alive
Betty dances
an instant choreography of our conversation.
Her familiar rhythmic motion seems to keep
flow of thought musically cohesive.
We play at soliloquies,
interweave of dialog,
tangential theme
Literature
Winter
Winter
All is quiet, not a single sound.
The world is pure, crystalline and resting. God's creatures sleep in the dead silence.
It is a time of death, a time of goodbyes, a time of moving on.
But it is also a time of cheer; people gather, laughing, giving.
Celebrating Jesus Christ; remembering Israelites.
The world is renewing, readying itself for a new year.
Literature
TheAfterWhys.
I know now,
that the muffled pressure in the dark space
of your car was us screaming into the silence:
I don't really know you,
but I want to.
I want to love you.
We were so so wrong for each other.
I know now,
that the drip burn of candle wax on the back of my hand
was you saying:
It hurts.
This not-quite-fitting-together,
but wanting it so much.
I know now,
that the sound of your receding footsteps
are louder than whispered cries of:
Stay. Please.
And I know why.
I know why we were silent
when we should have screamed.
I know why we could never,
would never, fit together.
I know all of the whys,
now.
After.
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5/7/5. Phew.
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