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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
Long and short form poems.

Submitted: May 28, 2017

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Submitted: May 28, 2017



Ocean breezes. That is what she imagined. The dewy soft sweetness of salty air mixed with the faint smell of rosa rugosa. The brightness of the light those hot summer days was almost untenable. Sensory overload after week after week hunkered down in dank, dark pre-war industrial city scapes.

The sunshine!

Who could know that this was her elixir-her tonic? It sought her out and beckoned. Life could be just that-a celebration of Sunshine Devotion. The seduction. The inebriation. Freedom was literally beating down on her delicate skin.

Her body swirled in reverence. Arching her back deep into back bends she felt into the landscape of that deliberate desire to disintegrate. With one deeper bend she could tip her scales and like melting chocolate weave her leaded constriction into strands of gold.

Barbaric! She imagined their scorn. The rebuttals. And understood because before tapped by sunshine she too would have scoffed at such wildness. It reeked of reckless abandon. But she was saturated in sun beams and sea air. Twirling faster and faster her heart beating into a fury outlet into high pitched hollering. “Ayeeeeiiiiii!!!!”

Lust had nothing on this abandon. This was the shit. This was what songwriters, poets and weavers of lore were pointing towards. Divine merging. Skidding towards oblivion. Panting now, faster and faster. Delight guaranteed in total obliteration.

The sky exploding. Clouds firm and fast moving-she raised an arm and found herself hoisted upwards-for the universe desired in matching heated moaning. To know, to feel each seam burst in excitation. Rapidly unwinding, yielding, pushing, winding-round round round. 

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