devour

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  • Loss

    devour

    i devoured a fruit of your name
    and to me seemed nothing like you
    sweet and deep juices
    running down my flesh
    and you were deep in me, yes
    but not so sweet
    i devoured a fruit of your name
    but unlike you
    it bore no mark of shame
    i saw your face as
    your arms came under my legs
    but i never saw your eyes
    i devoured a fruit of your name
    and of your soft destructive lies

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    poetess commented on devour

    09-22-2009

    beautiful!!! very sexy! gret prose and understanding of oneself.

    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    tidekeeper’s Poems (8)

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