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Literature Text
it's on and off and come again;
the swish, the sway, the sashay
sass and wit and brutal honesty
it's leave, come back, and go away.
it's red and green, purple and yellow, orange and blue
head or tails, up and down
the sky, the sea, the ground
it's straight, a square, and go around.
it's infinity to zero
the beginning to the end
with all the middle parts
sequestered inbetween.
Christmas cheer to Halloween fear
forgiveness to vengeance
creation to destruction
peace to war, chaos to order
it's everything and nothing.
it's on and off and come again
it's straight and square and circle
it's infinity to zero
everything to nothing
is a contradiction-
's don't exist.
the swish, the sway, the sashay
sass and wit and brutal honesty
it's leave, come back, and go away.
it's red and green, purple and yellow, orange and blue
head or tails, up and down
the sky, the sea, the ground
it's straight, a square, and go around.
it's infinity to zero
the beginning to the end
with all the middle parts
sequestered inbetween.
Christmas cheer to Halloween fear
forgiveness to vengeance
creation to destruction
peace to war, chaos to order
it's everything and nothing.
it's on and off and come again
it's straight and square and circle
it's infinity to zero
everything to nothing
is a contradiction-
's don't exist.
Literature
Cherished
She persuades him to lie down and be still for her
Naked in body only,
her eyes peer past the whole to the pieces.
She squeezes his breasts
Sweet, ripe little things
How they ache for her.
Curious hands become gentle fingers
Sliding up his throat
knuckles rasping against stubble
Skating across his forehead smoothing furrows.
Press gently on the delicate skin at the edges of his eyes
Follow down between the eyebrows
The straight line of his nose
Stroking soft lips that part in hungry expectancy.
She stretches his arms above his head, palms up.
Traces with spider legs down his shivering skin
Tickles the hair of his armpits
Nuzzling her
Literature
Brief Considerations
I have briefly considered burning.
Though always smouldering,
there was never quite a flame,
so to speak.
I have always been more
like a dim light,
glaring from a distance.
After lengthy consideration,
it has been decided that the
acrid stench would do me
no favours.
I have grown to accept
that I am no star,
no source of light
for the malcontent.
I am just one small light,
flickering, wavering,
barely existing;
Yet I carry on
and that is good enough
for now.
Literature
Millions
How do you tell the story of how a million people felt?
It's like trying to put words on infinity. The telling never ends; once you've caught a thread, you find that it is inextricably bound to countless others, an incomprehensible chain of emotion, a tangled spider web, shuddering with our nympholepsy. Even pictures only tell a thousand words, and a thousand pictures could never hope to come close to the words we lacked. The media's well of words ran dry how could you say it? Activists grew docile and listless what was there to say?
Our misery was collective, but as a collective we were splintered irreconcilably, individ
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I'm not sure Just found it in my st.ash, I think the first line just popped in and I like the sort of tune it has when you read it
© 2013 - 2024 Contradictory55
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so amazing......the feeling to read that is the same I feel when I try to understand my own feelings and mind........good job dear