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Blacks howling

A continuation of howling at the moon. A poets journey of self healing that used to contain lamination of love, courtship, and chasing. It will now be filled love,patience, and love letters to thee. You know who you are.
3 months ago. December 24, 2024 at 5:04 AM

Why is the infernal clock the tick and tock the test of favor,

 

To show the loves faithful flavor,

 

We dub the minutes as the crux of power,

 

How good the relationship depends on its hours,

 

When some have made me feel well in tiny moments,

 

With small gestures and healer proponents,

 

Showed me love is not bound by seconds and minutes,

 

But will power as we do comminutes,

 

Is choices in timely disregard in how we are,

 

Actions and reactions to phrases in stars,

 

Granduer in breath, static in touch, romantically such,

 

Taste skin as penuche,

 

Hearts beats symphonies,

 

Instead of worrying of the ticking liabilities if you please, remember these,

 

That time spent worrying about if it is has been along,

 

Wayward song of time gone,

 

For it beats no matter with pitter patter,

 

Like heart beats aligned ever fine,

 

Just look to its now, and sip the wine,

 

For time waits for no one,

 

Waiting for long enough, oh the setting sun,

 

Oh my,

oh my....


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