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Array
(
[sid] => 120496
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Inamorato of Valor
[time] => 2006-05-21 23:00:41
[hometext] => ~The man, the Marine, the uncertainty~weepingprophet
[bodytext] => When I aspire to wake-up. Breath. I pause to think of last night, Your cherishing hands. Eager. We've always been eager. The callouses on your left hand's fingers, running over every inch of me. Quivering, uncomically. These hands will kill many men, women and children before they lay casually on the small of my back, Rest peacefully on my stomach again. Once I am balanced on you Precisely, assured, I will look into the face of a Marine and see the blood pushing its way out of your pores steadily covering your eyes. I'll hold my breath to wonder if you feel it on your face. As casually as I wipe it off, as reluctantly as I kiss those bloodied lips. Right now your Kevlar is waiting, uncertain as this last cherished night. And I am unwrapping you with the same feeble joy that will carry me through the next four years. That same joy that will lift your legs to run and focus your eyes down the sight of a standard issue military weapon. We both underestimate our enemies and oh how we fail to see the greatest battle, the one raging inside us, each and with the other. You are a bloody mess but you are mine. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 200 [topic] => 55 [informant] => weepingprophet [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
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