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I stroked your little ego
    'til your head literally exploded
pam
the impending ending in sight
together for one more night
i can't pretend to know
how the rest of the story goes
but i do know this was the best
weekend of my life
The passionate propensity
   of waxing moons' passages,
I crave your poetry
    as the air I breathe,
vital spirit aches within intention
    hungering the  blissed taste
       of essential Neruda -
midst the significance of
  rose and topaz
    arrows of wildflowers,
whence your own  scripted
   inclinations unfurl
     searing 'neath my flesh,
   rendering me speechless
      'tween ***** sighs
   I surrender in the exhale
      of a thousand blazing suns
She was costly Bordeaux
  he was recycled biker leather,
her classic affluent beauty
  yearned for motorcycle thrills,
she lifted him up a grade
     he brought her down to street level,
  they fused at steamy rush hours
   under trafficked high ways,
    pursuant to reckless merging
                   reality's intersections accelerated            
   crashing expedited speed limits,
       would never again drive
  mid smoothly paved junctures
             at the standard rate of normal
some how i knew
that night would lead to
something amazing
and the amazing was you
after months of silent
adoration i finally told you the truth
overcome with joy
you cried and i was the happiest boy
to know you lied too
how was i supposed to know
you liked me as much as i liked you
you are so ******* cute
so this is an ending of an intro
and the beginning of something new
true story
an invitation
you called to me in blood red
request denied, *****
Chambord recollections,
   exhaling smoky vapors,
wisps of  Madagascar aromatics
midst a French Château dream,
  dipped in honeysuckle reminisces
  of cardamom spice and the pungent
zest of once 'neath a midnight legend
kindly whispered
the pale night's sun
*go to sleep, delusional one
bright orange illuminates the sky
making an ominous silhouette of the tree line
burning it's fragile frame into my eyes

behind the gleaming in your smile
is where i'd like to sleep for a while
there isn't an inch of skin
on this worn down body
that isn't stricken with pain
scabbed over and gaudy
with every motion i shout
and doubt my convictions without
knowing anymore what they're really about
i see a door called death and it seems
the easiest way out
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