Fertile Syllables:
These moments,
they crush nostalgic dreams.
They penalize potential harmony.
They melt majestic motives,
because in my mind I conceive
of fertile syllables wantonly
craving a fountain of desire.
Ultimately, I yearn to
organically levitate
around pulsating images
of an angel without
considering its affects upon
my superlative, but truly
consonant emotions.
I am human, and thievingly
thirst in the desert of passion!
Yorktown Disciple 1973
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2012 by Yorktown Disciple,
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