Topic: TRIP SEVENS or Royal Flush | |
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Edited by
d4tc
on
Wed 09/03/08 10:28 AM
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Her name is nameless
for now Her game is shameless The way she takes down her clothes gets me She speaks in my language of Love Seeing as how we are r e c e p e t i c a l Her hug is my hug My eyes on her eyes on my eyes We bat eyes Flinching intentionally We sat at the pool You checked me out with a wild tongue and lips So wild I have not seen that look at me in so long uneven too long maybe never had I had a look like that Only in my hands you are p r e c i o u s I see no fear No hate No anger No tension Just a suspension of my heart floating with thoughts of you as wings I flutter No reason to drag a rudder You give me wind for my sail Fuel to my fire That burns for you So I N T E N S I V E I float to you paddling with two ores in each hand thinking I can get to you faster Only I know that hands will give and when they do I can only wonder why my hands are numb because I'm with you and all I feel is what my heart allows and how you managed to make me feel a l i v e This summer Brilliant But you are brilliant and beautiful and so many other overused stale sounding words that I'd rather not confess to describe you But you You! You said things and done things that I have never seen and enticing and wanting you now are no words to properly describe how much I can't wait for you to call me Like Shogun's was calling And the 'double double' rolls you trusted because I said they were to die for you were not afraid You took a bite Only after I saw you struggle three times with the chopsticks before I took one of my rolls and clamped it by what some might refer to as wooden sticks of frustration at first Chop sticking to the plan I fed you With my double double roll Realizing That word A P H R O D I S I A C is no joke I get it now The way we laughed and crashed into eachother Looking for an excuse to extend this surrender You told me I can do whatever I want to you I said the same thing I felt vulnerable You are cracking my shell I know I'm not hard boiled I'm not pouched I'm not a fuuking egg But Gawdamn Girl! Your call isn't ringing fast enough! After last night I now know that anything really means anything could this be love? Time will tell. |
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what a sensitive write
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