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Fiery SenoritaScarlet and Gold she sways,
flicking up her skirts of ash blown grays,
stricking sparks like Firefly lights,
this senorita can dance through any night.
A jealously gaurded heart has she,
a temper made to match you'll see,
the world may frown and cry while she cackles,
but her feet! how their step crackles.
All the good boys hasten to clear her path,
when this dance is over, then they'll laugh,
at how they tried to predict her wandering moods,
and how she gobbled at all her favourite foods.
Soul striking mistresss, I saw from above,
how you destroy all in your way,
A flickering flame that searches for a place to love,
Please never come visit me I pray.
AdequateI was always worried about being adequate,
A demon of temperance in inadequacy.
I kept seeing the world as slowly but surely it made me unequally adequate,
the gay man that could never be straight, never be part of normality.
They where showing me that everyone else was openly adequate,
and i could just be understandably adequate, if i so wished.
I just needed to be knowingly adequate, just needed to be always adequate,
but I know I will be never adequate, me in my intemperance, my sulking indifference.
I just want to see who is ever adequate enough?
The Truth In LoveI wanna know the truth of love, I have seen enough of life's lies. The bridges of hope spread once, before they collapsed beneath my sighs.
Looking on with colored lens, the truth is never known. For when the box is opened, love's face is hidden, not shown.
Suffering the worst of lies told softly to my face. I know that tacky love is taken down and it gets lost without a trace.
Sweep your rose soaked lips across my ear, tell me how you really feel, not just what I want to hear.
Take my hand once please before you say you'll try, cause you take my heart away each time you say goodbye.
Whisper that you love me, it's your truth I want to feel. Let the words slip from your mouth and float the breeze across the window sill.
I know its only time, and time we have is fleeting, but you are up and done before i have even begun my greeting. I feel the world trickle down my spine each time your hand is near, but you have no truthful love, nothing that I will ever hear.
Fluttered lashesHer eyes are like butterflies,
her kisses fall soft as snow,
along the railway tracks she rides,
she's seeing how far her looks can go.
She takes her seat on stranger's hands,
trading sighs in return for smiles of lust,
the money seems to keep its cool, in hot hands,
even as the old pennies start to rust.
Faux is the fur that falls around her shoulders,
their weight a constant part of her life,
she will never be caught unnoticed,
as she runs with her lying hips from strife.
Her eyes are like butterflies,
trading sighs for smiles of lust,
she will never be caught unnoticed,
she has never found a need for trust.
I keep meaning to pick up the penI keep meaning to pick up the pen,
to write to you, to see ink run and skip,
my heart playing among the lines folded
and so neatly wrapped up in the hands of a postman.
I used to love to watch my hand move,
as it danced along with my mind,
swaying over the ocean of memories,
where i find I've missed you every minute, every day.
I keep meaning to pick up the pen,
but I just don't know your address anymore.
I am on my way...I am on my way,
the gods outside playing hopscotch,
As the train around me grinds and sways,
like a stripper with her top off.
The sky a grey murmur,
Dancing along a green corridor,
fuzzy like the lines of text I read,
on the back of another passenger's newspaper.
Butterflies are twinkling,
as they twirl through a little girl's hair,
waiting silently, kicking her heels,
against a seat none of us find comfortable for long.
I am on my way,
my heart is playing hopscotch,
as the gods around me grind their axes,
while they let me know innocent girl smiles,
as i travel to a dream, fuzzy like lines of newspaper,
twinkling under the heels of a passenger's boot,
in a seat none find comfortable for long,
Dancing along the green corridor of stripped life.
*Faith*Across the river
Stepping stones, I lightly tread
Leading who knows where.
little violoneThe earth for all its years could sing without me.
Past the sky, the listening spheres sing without me.
Deep in the woods, the nymphs and spirits flit
through the old trees. They hear, but sing without me.
Within my heartstrings hums the flesh of beasts,
threads with no bloody veneer - sing without me.
Now the crawling creatures are left alone;
coiled metal seals the nuclear - sing without me.
Carvings and curves of a feminine feel,
like ink into her back seared - sing without me.
Artists work my tongue with pen and horsehair -
groups of musicians here won't sing without me.
With ease, I can mimic the human voice;
to great peaks I dive and rear, so sing without me.
I don't need your voice. I am in command
of sonorous solos. Dear, sing without me,
or try. My fairy, phantom garbed in white,
you couldn't bear, puppeteer, sing without me.
Little Miss It“Do you enjoy her company?”
That, Avadaci concluded, had been the extent of his grandfather’s kindness. Thank the stars he had broken his neck after a failed attempt to ascend the castle staircase. Not that many were privy to this information. The official listing on the cause of death involved something along the lines of falling in battle after slaying at least a dozen demons, although this was treated with quite a bit of skepticism by the general populace. Yet, interestingly enough, a decent portion of the locals believed a tale about the cannibals of Unkhtom devouring him whole.
Not that Avadaci really cared how his grandfather had died. He was just glad he was dead. And if he was glad his grandfather had died, Avadaci wondered, why did he have to attend his funeral? In fact, the whole kingdom was glad his grandfather had died. Why did they have to attend the funeral?
“Oh Avad,” proclaimed his mother, “obv
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More