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One

night withers to her pull pink panther upon the prowl alone the wolf transversed in a hearse drawn howl a wilderness of one relegated and isolated a biting bohemoth born to run in the distance, war torn eyes witness shimmers seducing from her grace across an open gate swung out she glowing as he awaits ne'r to bend her very graze, hyphenated an empty haze awoken stare not stolen from her face titillating and taken aback a second and a third, time to rewind if only I was a bird and could peck out those eyes flapping my golden wings nesting near your threaded roost touching cheek to cheek but be forewarned of that and this the wild wild wind and the hail leading the call of the lord where lovers leap and keep quarters close sink not into the valley of the night nor play within the thorns bleeding out in the thickets rise up when he rises shine down when he shines release now all the flowers from their bed

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 4/9/2020 7:10:00 PM
Interesting. Mellors, I see you've gone all Poe and D.H. Lawrence. Regards, 99. x
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Ts Poetry
Date: 4/11/2020 5:20:00 AM
I go where I'm pulled
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 4/10/2020 1:06:00 AM
Nick Drake, "Pink Moon" 1972 - Lyrics.
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 4/10/2020 1:05:00 AM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=irq959oNVww
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Lady Labyrinth
Date: 4/10/2020 12:03:00 AM
Muskrat Love...lovely Pink Moon. Numerically, I am a 1, we all have numbers in one way or another. I wonder where you fall in the spectrum. Everything comes back to the math...I always have found the Fibonacci sequence fascinating and sacred geometry. In the end we all add up to One. x
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Ts Poetry
Date: 4/9/2020 7:12:00 PM
When I was leaving for work the sun was rising brightly and the super moon was still suspended in the pinkish sky

Book: Shattered Sighs