A shadow of a puppet dances in the fire light.
That's something I like to think about
other than milk
the Earthly white oceans of milk at room temperature
pale as my Irish skin, pale as my cyclops mind,
leaves a smokescreen in my tea.
Even the night is white.
I was given two percent
puring, murmuring in a high calorie smoothie
slowly spoiling in the
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Comments 2
I love this one the most of everything you've written so far. Sometimes it strays back into your typical stream of consciousness style writing (esp in the beginning) but you seem to stick with a coherent and interesting theme. The theme of basic satisfaction, at the expense of what?
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I'm not sure where this poetry kink is coming from but I'm really addicted to it lately, I can really look at them and unlock a lot of memory, discussion, and discovery, and I love that its cryptic to an extent where I'm not sure always sure what I'm talking about, of course its always hits me on the head what I was saying, like usual. Its an odd emotional experience, I would love to do a poetry reading that would be a lot of fun
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