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Click hereI want to write something for the girls
To make them love me
I want to make them swoon
It seems important
Tattered. They should fall on me
I should have the moon on a stick, stars on my fingers
Grand promises
And lie then in the grass with one
Who knows me and yet who's strange enough
That learning her is still exciting
And in sex like star juice
Let her open me
And find inside
Something precious
glowing and new
Something that makes her face light up
They way girls' faces do
When they're in love
You're giving all your secrets away in this one, Doc. :-)
Something light, for a change, and I can’t complain! Funny it is, even then he would not let go of at least one celestial body –ok, it’s only the moon I believe. You and Chagall could have a lot in common vis a vis these intimate relations with women and the moon all together. Squeezing the juice out of a star was certainly a nice touch and I could see the light as I learn to know and like more and more your poetics and as here (yet again) the common practice of fluid relations between multiple types of dimensions and of course: solid liquids and gas is yet again demonstrated. I was taken by the gracious passivity you allow the women to open you (quite a reversal of roles I’d say, and it continues with the emphasis on pleasing the ladies first by allowing them to discover something in you (and even fall in love (how kind of you). Before you go on to your next nocturnal conquest, why won’t you correct “They” in the line before last to “The”; just to make it readable to the very end.
It's very nice to read something non-violent from you. The poem tells me that you see beauty in love but feel distant and not a part of it. Leighlilly
A little fresh innocence, but beware those faces lighting up — they'll spell your doom.