Friday, April 2, 2010

# 17

Bearded flame, not so tame, and it all red the same. Over whine I found strength in sharing, a reward born of caring and though I am too proud, intense, and reaping she loves me straight, the tangles are lurking. Some trust does, some truly do, and some trilogies drowned left lurking in the so to do tune of verdad truths and the silence that has found us.

Thank you # 17 for your reality, your hope, and the rest you gave us to prepare for # 18 which we will surly dare. And though 6 was too much and the bottles remain uncounted I await the moment when my numbers are no more with absolution left somewhere on the floor.

An earring fell but was quickly saved and out of this moments came that saw us raw, rare, and relieved. Moments that I can remember though some I don't believe. And though intense, incensed, and immobile we saved the night with the intimacy that followed.

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