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Vessel

slip against me
cold as the dark
climbing like a rush
against the spark of
day

you want to cut me
thin with your blade
smile and startle
me with the feral
charm of beguiling
eyes

the angel mouth
sculpted in thought
applying blush
with the sable brush

Editing stage: 

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the days of beginning

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reminded of a woman putting on her make-up after spending the night in the arms of her lover. I am most likely wrong, but I guess we all get something different when we read another's work. Made me think. ~ Gee

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I watch much media
read some poetry in my time
In not college taught
but book read from the library
from talking to some intelligencia
on the road

the poetry is left open for the reader to attach association
to it becomes personal
like building polymer chains
like light its binary wavelength

the signal reception is broad enough in spectrum
to fill the intake with association of memory
enough to spike the start like a coil
like advertisement
a word or series of phrase
to induce an image or thought synapse

the more sparce it is the more reception to attentuation
its a weak system by far
no the strong compacted
multitude of descripts that vivid
scores in framework

My personal relation to this
is just a person getting ready
to go out on a light social outing

nothing glamourous or deep
but again thats my poets meaning
for this write

the faintest of signal gain sometimes
fills in ghost overlays
of the strong emotive power of
recall
amazing really

without this poetry would have
no magic no dazzle

Thank You Gee

author comment
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