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To My Daughter

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  We men never stop for women we are always on the move going somewhere else:           on to our next conquest,           a tighter squeeze,           a new adventure— Our heads staring at the noon sun like the breasts of a virgin at fifteen.   Image by  Layers  from  Pixabay   One day you are a raw egg in the palms of our hands, The other day we squeeze           Just a little Until your shell cracks,           Just a little Until your juices run,           Just a little Until they stain our shoes,           Just a little But you are a shell now— Shattered. Forever.   Your body that was once bubbling with life is beyond. You watch, crying through the lock Round the clock we men walk away Jacket tails slapping over our ass(holes) Go somewhere else To carry another egg. Photo by Nathasha Daher: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-leaning-on-window-2860381/

I Go Home

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Image by Andrea Baratella from Pixabay I go home and make love to my wife thinking of another wife in another life who is not like her but ... I go home to her. I tell all the others that I wish I had met them before I met my wife a new meaning they give my life— pillow-talk with no meaning— but ... I go home to my wife. They are not mean; They get what I mean, Believe only they love me the way I deserve My sanity they preserve But ... I go home to my wife.

The Love We Give

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  Welcoming them to the darkest hole in my heart Stretched arms with fisted hands Heart-killer who cares not: Death is eternal. We love Rolling the sweet nothings with tongues That neither care, nor Care to care The lies maim to kill. We make love Drinking from unwashed cups Tounged kisses sucking the air; Kisses with no love Only fire to consume our souls to eternal hell, The love only external.

Breaking Another Heart

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I got another girl She adores me Believes every sweet nothing I utter Fantasising of the transcendental melding of our souls: Poor girl J'st another conquest. I am breaking another heart and I know it; She doesn't know I lie with dilated pupils. When I tell her to be careful of people whose pupils dilate when they lie she doesn't believe my truth “Come with me.” She thinks it's an invitation; She'll cry through the lock round the clock Wondering why I left.

She is Afraid of Love

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  She is afraid of love           that requires making           when she is licked           and wet Locks click           and the door to her womanhood closes. The pain is a sword,           tears asunder the pleasure She cries her heart and soul           and her brain shuts To beg God for forgiveness—           she strayed when she met me           her beautiful devil. She vows never ever to sin again           until the next time she longs for it.

Divine Love: Immense Joy XXVI

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pinterest Even as sometimes here we fight, though love in the act that all the iniquity is swept away by it, and I look into thy lovin’ eyes my duty to behold you either by words or gesture’s signified; therein the sparkling of the love I cherish. You’re more than a thousand lights that rise O gentle star! My moon and my sun Thence no smoke to vitiate thy rays; O King of My Heart, So steadfast my desire  Is unto you who willed to live with me, And to you I shall walk to the altar That I know no other love foreswear Make jubilant the interwoven souls. And upon earth we shall leave our memories Such that the naysayers here commend it, and tell of our story that from two hearts did single love Make itself felt, issued a single sound from out that one love.

You Were Mine

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pinterest You’re light,            the kind that came in through a crack on the wall. You’re hope,           the kind that hung around when all was gone. I was happy,           the kind that you knew was somewhere deep within,           even though you didn’t feel it then. You’re mine,           the kind that I wasn’t supposed to keep but knew I would never leave. I was the one you never wanted to be with.  (A pastiche adopted from A Curve of Darkness by Munira Hussein)