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    Doctor Oger
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Sock Drawer - 6. Whispers

Love poem. Sonnet.

Whispers

 

Longing leaves love lone and littered,

Hovering about in halves --

Two of them, and sometimes bitter,

But it never stopped our laughs.

Will it, wish for wanton whispers

Like the rustling in a tree

Of a hot wind giving shivers

And a sighing melody;

Rays from up there feed us fire,

Fuel shifting on the ground;

And as steam and smoke rise higher

There is just one lovely sound --

To the rhythm of this lyre

We can hear our pulses pound.

 

Almost Symbolist love poem. Sonnet.
Copyright © 2017 Doctor Oger; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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To me, this is waking up on a quiet Sunday, turning over and reaching for my man, and then slow hot kisses turn to more, and everything.

 

tim

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On 01/10/2016 03:05 AM, Mikiesboy said:

To me, this is waking up on a quiet Sunday, turning over and reaching for my man, and then slow hot kisses turn to more, and everything.

 

tim

You get the picture. :}

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