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-BRUNETTE-SEVERITY-

Beneath our copious
stealth
steals

rains wash sleek
suspense
heals

candle wax and vortex baths
swirling
skins of sins

twine vintaged vast vermillion
tasks

drying draped damp
drowned
laying lastly sleeping
and dreamland found
bound in strands
dark and cruel
streaks of night
by lengths
and rule

rivulet tumult
bitten charmed
and broken
summits

each hip a crest
topped in flicks
of light
tongues of depth
chains of weakness

these separate
selves
upon wist and chime
threaded
swims
adulterated
tight vineyard
bold
pulled in
as vines

while a shower
laced from heaven
grows old
and sinks sleek
into loam
deep as
graves
black as a
crave

Editing stage: 

Comments

this fine piece of writing! The imagery took me away from me! Powerful!

_________________________________________
"Death" is nonsense: what is there to die?
"Life"? How could " life" "die"? That is a contradiction
in terms. Can "light" become "darkness"?
"Light" can only cease to be apparent

Wei Wu Wei

i grew up video...not just radio..
but i started there..the songs to fire up
imagination...
visual cues..
thought processes...

one did not entirely need all the words
it became a collage
again like when people could not
read....photos in papers
pictures in bibles

fairytales were the first mass
media storyboards
that were carried beyond
mere words..

like frescoes
of the old wealthy
pre industrail rev

this one is about lust
but not of tidy
careful arranged

this like the wind
that carries its
spark tinder
dry

in a downpour
if that makes a
sense or not
it doesnt...

but human nature
and human magic
that darkness
that is from a light
to produce shadows

that shadow stealing
magic

show is the amazing

thank you..

author comment

A great write and I enjoyed the trip.
Can you imagine later when all of us have gone and left are those brought up with a pad in their hands and a world of irrational make believe..
Two very flexible thumbs and eyes that can only focus on reader distance, with a brain cell triggered by strange pictures..
Oh Hell I am so glad that I was born when I was born..
Take care young Wolf, there may be a time of plenty before the next famine.
Can you see the form in its bed, calling to a dead mother to plug its charger in, as the lights go out one by one
Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

coal oil lamps..oilcloth on kitchen table..little house with hardwoods about next....wind at night..rain..well kept..needed just tlc....i remember that.....well...

author comment
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