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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 12-June 22:34:30 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 101482
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Breathe (My mountains, America)
[time] => 2005-07-18 00:21:31
[hometext] => always, abraham
[bodytext] => I breathe, Slither down her side press lips to ribs, clench teeth, break skin, kiss and suck, cross fingers with fingers with silk and denim dreams. I breathe, she is black marble walls running the length of a small river; etched stone soldiers praying to be free. She is David's Star sewn crudely in brown overcoats; hidden, untouched photographs laughing soundlessly over a sea of ash and stone. I breathe. She is the first fresh air falling beneath mountain tops, shining seas and stars. I breathe. She is toppled skirt less pressing thighs to hips, gyrating, thrusting rabidly, quivering, moaning, pressing her fingers into my mountains. My mountains America, she is pressing my mountains, and you are the empty bed the old scar the memory, America. She is the pausing lover, America, considering the slightest touch of my tears. She is the tired, dirty sweat sipping whispers at the bar, America. She is the smallest sparkle hidden behind the stars; your lights cannot touch her America; your neon, halogen, florescent, your incandescent fealty, America. She is my flower America, and you are my stone; My freedom and her cage. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 166 [topic] => 2 [informant] => Iodinelove [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LovePoetry )
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