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Her eyes were like oil ready to flow.
They were deeper than the blackest of wells.
A place where the darkness can cloak a mound of children,
Broken and unwanted in a muddy hollow.
In this moment those children were my heart,
Drained of color at the bottom of the well,
Lying cold and in unnatural positions.
I loved her all a boy could love,
But I would not tell her.
“Tell me that I mean something to you,”
My thoughts were a raging without a sound.
“Do I exist?”
The silence had no pulse.
Waiting for warm words made it colder.
I was dwelling on the night before.
Smoldering couch loving,
Like a Louisiana summer.
How she would cover her mouth when she would cum,
adorable and sweet.
I knew that I could be anything that she wanted me to be.
I would have changed my mask if she would just look the other way.
She wouldn’t believe what’s underneath.

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The following comments are for "Lover's Quarrel"

lovers quarrel
i enjoyed your peoem well done

( Posted by: wanda [Member] On: July 29, 2006 )

Lover's Quarrel
You wouldn't believe what lay underneath this seemingly inoccuous title either. "In this moment those children were my heart/ Drained of color at the bottom of the well/ Lying cold and in unnatural positions." Wow. When I read one of yours I'm usually left speechless. There is always the odd phrase or line that I can't get out of my head. Their like nuclear bombs, your poems. The initial impact is devastating enough but the fallout lasts for a while, seeping in to everything, making things weird and not quite right for some time afterwards... But in a good way.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: July 30, 2006 )

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