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Poetry
Let the thoughts
that haunt us
become flesh
and touch
these pages for
my memories have faded with time, becoming dreams, shadowy phantasms, of what might and could have been. So I write.
Welcome, dreamwalkers.
kindly refresh the page if the comments link does not appear, thank you
In worship I kneel, bow my head to your other one. I touch slowly, kiss softly then I lick, flick, swirl, suck, all at the same time until you call out “god.”