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Literature Text
Allow me a sweet morsel of your time
To remove the static numb
Of internet speed.
I will give you in return
The slow, rhythmic, dance
Of a lovers need.
Breathing hot life
Into your untapped dream
Let me drench you
In connected release
Leaving you spent
In ardent steam.
To remove the static numb
Of internet speed.
I will give you in return
The slow, rhythmic, dance
Of a lovers need.
Breathing hot life
Into your untapped dream
Let me drench you
In connected release
Leaving you spent
In ardent steam.
Literature
pure
Lay me in a shallow grave
beneath the maple tree.
The one I carved
with a crooked heart
when we were but two
or three.
Let wind,sun and rain
wash my decaying skin.
Let roots of the maple
sink deep to bone within.
Seeking sustenance from the marrow
of my very soul.
Let the very heart of me
feed our carven tome.
Leave me in a shallow grave
beneath the maple tree.
The one where we had
our first true kiss
when we were sweet sixteens.
Let well-fed worms and busy ants
dispose of all the scraps.
Splintered bones lay nestled
in a twisted ball of root.
In return for a maple's skin
to cut an undying mark for you.
Spread a bed of lilies
over what used
Literature
heart of gold
Pure is your heart of gold.
Inside and out, it became bold
but remained calloused to the core.
I wish you'd suffer no more.
Beautiful eyes say you do.
Beautiful eyes say that's nothing new
for you, you tortured delicate.
In heaven, pain shall be celibate,
but this isn't heaven, it's hell.
You make the hurting ones well
by fertilizing crops in despair.
You suffocate by breathing in air
tainted with carbon dioxide,
left by those starting to die.
You're just a tree with dying roots,
which still stands and bears truth.
When darkness around me seethes,
you are the air I breathe.
Pure is your heart of gold.
Day by day it grows old.
Your heart of g
Literature
Nothing Pure Shall Fade
Sunshine forever falls
despite night's misty shawl.
Sweet-springs that constant drain
are filled with summer's rain.
And flowers, blooms subdued
from winter's frigid mood,
in spring are quick remade.
Nothing pure shall fade.
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