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LaundromatThe Laundromat at 79th and Jackson was underneath a Chinese restaurant, so the place always stunk of detergent and sweet and sour sauce. During the day, it was packed with people from the Arts District and the Business District. Other people rarely showed up to wash their clothes at two AM. John liked the quiet, when it was just him and the low hum of the machine. Besides, if he came during regular hours, he'd have to weave his wheelchair through people shuffling from one machine to the other, dodging laundry baskets and children fidgeting next to their mothers. John's nose wrinkled as he separated his clothes into the washers. Tightey whiteys went to the left, shirts to the front, troublesome jeans to the right. It was so difficult to pull denim over his thin, thin legs, but it was worth it if people didn't stare at his knees. John was a man who lived in t-shirts and jeans. Washing clothes was simple, except the machines were taller than his wheelchair, so John had to reach up to drop
Hot Hotter Hot Hottest IntroMy balls were sticking to my inner thigh like a baby seal clinging to an Antarctic shore. Unfortunately, the camera was pointed right at me, so I couldn't do the leg-shake maneuver to get them loose. I saw the set of Hello, Good Morning! with Buster through two pea-sized holes drilled into my velvet helmet. Crayola had puked on the walls, the floor, the blocks, the rug, and even Buster. That was me, the rainbow-colored dog that came up on TV from dawn til noon. Outside of Busters Play Pen was the black, soulless collection of cameras and producers and directors sitting in fold-up chairs who occasionally yelled me through a microphone like I wasnt right in front of them. The sweat permeated in the depths of my fur suit because the air was recycled every time I exhaled. I re-realized how much I hated doing kid shows. Being on a childrens program was just like being in a porno; as soon you were recorded, no one could take your acting serious
Maybe... Perhaps...Maybe ... because our encounters are given as numbered...
Perhaps ... there could be no poets in the world, but there will always be a poem for you...
Maybe... I want to eat you and fill me of you because I don’t know when I will have you again…
Perhaps... where my heart burns and rests, I will find you, my beauty...
Maybe... because there is no map to the place where we go...
Perhaps... because all of your kisses are stolen…
Maybe... Darkness and light are the work of one mind, features of the same face, blossom of a single tree...
Perhaps... Something special for you, whispering to the foolish hearts like mine...
Maybe ... because you decided to not stay with me...
Perhaps ... I have to resign myself to run away with you...
Maybe... As long as there are eyes that reflect the passions of the eyes who look at you...
Perhaps... The eyes can’t fit on the face of the world, and the eyes do not fit into the earth to admire your beauty...
Maybe ... Suddenly I found
love poem for a pianistyou make me think about
how heavy negative space can be.
the space between your fingers,
the space between notes,
the space between us
in this small, soundproof room;
every empty millimetre
in my chest
She + She"I like how our feminine gazes cross, from dawn till twilight
This honeyed voice of her, every time
She says she's deeply fond of me. Mellifluous sounds.
The way we roll up in the green watered grass, innocently
Our burning hands melt under our youth's sun beams.
After years of wandering, I'm conviced
I finally found how I should live.
Her arm around my pleased waist."
said Laura, with an indelible grin on her chubby face.
"I especially liked our fortunate meeting
I remember everything, every purple clouds among morning mist
Sprites sowed seeds of love on my path.
When I saw her, one word bolted in my stunned mind,
This stunning aura of her, just left me speechless
Spring butterflies in my stomach,
Each new sapphire moon with this girl is a gift."
said Charlotte, tightly holding her darling's hand.
"A dyke? Meeeh it shouldn't exist, th
RosesRoses are read and violets are blue
I gave my entire heart over to you
You took it from me and dumped it in the trash
I should've known; beauty never lasts
Roses are brittle and violets will wilt
All I did was try and ask you for help
You took me under your wing and crept into my heart
Then you made sure to take your time in ripping me apart
Roses are dead, the violets are too
How did I ever convince myself to trust you
Still, it was nice to think I had a friend
To bad I was just a toy to you in the end
when you came into my life,
your brightened it so much.
your first kiss eased my pain
and began to set my soul right.
your touch soothes my worn nerves,
bringing my anxeity down with love.
your soft words bring me inner peace,
giving me the strength to continue on.
your embrace smothers me with love,
letting me know that you really care.
never leave me, always love me true.
Just as much, honey, as I love you.
GoodbyeRight now I don't want to remember,
And I hope I won't regret this,
But I know I won't want to forget this
Those final hours, and that lingering last kiss
Was the type of moment dreams dwell on,
No I won't forget this:
If that was the last time I held you,
And thought we'd have time,
The last time I tasted you,
And felt your skin slip against mine,
It's the type of goodbye
Writers write about,
Singers sing about,
And dreamers dream about.
Well, I'll scribble about missing you,
And about wilting flowers;
I’m always looking for a story, darling,
And 'goodbye' may be the best of ours.
Love calls, homeLove,
I hear you calling me home.
my heart is bleeding, alone.
Should I pick up the phone?
My love is calling me home.
And, he's calling me home.
Loud SilenceMy tongue cannot convey as much emotion as my hands can.
My hands can dance a dance of love & ecstasy, as I caress your beautiful skin.
My hands, they can express how much you mean to me with a gentle stroke of my thumb over your knuckle.
They can scream in anguish and displeasure as I pull my hand from yours, my futile attempt to
shield our awkward affection for one another from your eccentric, pushy family.
They can experience a euphoric sensation as they, ever so slowly, part your silky hair, silent pleasure emanating from my fingertips.
And they can aid in my eternal struggle, -to express my love for you and all you stand for, with a simple squeeze of your smaller hand.
our home bigger than the universe
a walk on the shores
on a quiet evening
and your hand rubs mine
in shades of crimson
melting across a vast horizon
the wind is beginning
to brush its chills
across my cheeks
the touch of your fingers
bring warmth inside me
that is manifesting today
counting every silent breath
I remind you of love's true lessons
that I follow thoroughly
into my veins gushing
like chants of a holy book
at the cusp of twilight
I hold you
in the image of my god
I am devoted
toward the presence of your soul
into my life
and I honor the oneness
of us together
blessed under the ecstasy
gifted by the divine
the whole of me belongs
but parts of me are divided
for the service of the ones
who need me
as much as you do
my home lies in your arms
but my world is extended
toward healing broken minds
and mending shattered hearts
that have been ignored and hurt
I want you to understand the plan
is higher and larger
than a universe dispersed
between you and me
Midnight SnacksI hope that my leaving is just a minor hurt
Yet knowing that worse leads to worse
And how fretting multiplies, but starts inert
I will remind you of what we have with verse
Our love is like an ice box that sits bold
In the corner of a kitchen, dormant and hushed
A warm lifeline feeding and keeping the insides cold
Even as it works at its own pace, never rushed
The best goodbye would be in the boxs back
Taken only when loneliness paints the dark skies
Then, it would be drawn from the very last rack
Like a pint of rocky road in Comfort Me size
So I say, with love entwined in lines and feet
Despite the curving paths that fate has drawn
Despite the yards and miles, we are complete.
Remember me whenever the little bulb turns on.
Keep in Touch!
^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