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jocelynmeadows
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oblique
Her mind was oblique to the world, slightly off-balance and askew. She asked the questions; she treaded deep waters of worldliness, searched through man-made forests for the remainder of the original world. She was the kind of girl that made you believe you didn't have to experience the world in the way everyone told you you did.
lord
Here my darling, Hallowed be thy name, Thy kingdom Come my lady, to your castle, to your house of light- Shadows Beware. Here she rests her heel.
soups
You carried me up With our stomachs of soups. We found eachother's hands again Our lips speaking to eachother Our brains wiring a map out For the fingers to follow to. Every muscle was a troupe Marching along the road home.
brief
Come around again, In those red white-stripped briefs, So we can find something wrong with your touch, Us Scientists of feeling, Like to remind you of things you can't have.
jelly
Memories like petroleum jelly Oiling the crannies of the cerebrum with buttery adjectives. The sustenance, a whipped coating.
cap
Cap off your drinks Even if they are sweet and distorted vodkas, Sugared down candies, The iniquity of a social drinker. He fawns upon the rim with his lips, Fondling the bottle with brusque sips. Fixedly the room watches him, Somewhere vivid His cortex is still with propinquity.
dilemma
You hear a wise, smokey voice speaking. All my life I have waited for you. And I remember the momentary dilemma Our last moments The tears streaming down my face As you prayed you would never let me go. Our hand-cuffed grip and the yellow reflecting From the wide dusty lot. Blonde curls sticking to your tall royal uniform. Our last kiss, The death spreading amongst my limbs like a rumor. Your face behind the glass As if I had never been there at all.
lodge
It lodges itself into the heart You know the feeling A seeking feeling That cracks all the ribs. It Moves outward from the chest to all the extremities, Sailing through the blood stream and blooming in each artery.
engine
Her floral heart pumped until the petals wrung dry. The stamen gasped for air, Preaching to bees mouths and Kissing their feet as they stall, Ever so slightly at the anthers, Ever so slight at the precipice of gravity. Her carpel disheveled in lust and at each pollinating return, The apogee of her existence beat her.
outgoing
And there was a fumbling Spilling frothing To her speech. He licked the foam from her lips And smirked at her blushing cheeks. You are more incredible now than you've ever been, Were you ever fourteen?
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