Thursday, November 8, 2012

MOEITY



I always knew you
Despite that diaphanous conscious choking
Your birthright ability
To feel and be felt
(in your beautiful head and your loins as well)

My king, my panacea
Once fisted his lissome fingers
Walked out the door
and crossed the continent
to settle

The loss of charming innocence
Peony breath and reverence
To our imbroglios love;
its entropy

My knack for adaption
And your inure. 

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