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Another Day-The kettle's on, the sun has gone, another day
She offers me, Tibetan tea, on a flower tray
She's at the door, she's want's to score, she really needs to say:
'I once loved you a long time ago, you know
Where the winds own forget-me-nots blow, you know
But I couldn't let myself go
Not knowing what on earth there was to know
But I wish that I had, 'cause it makes me so sad
that I never had one of your children.'
Across the room, inside a tomb, a chance is waxed and waned
The night is young, why are we so hung-up, in each other's chains
I must take her, I must make her, while the dove domains
See the juice run as she flies
Run my wings under her sighs
As the flames of eternity rise
To lick us with the first born lash of dawn
Oh really my dear, I can't see what we fear
With ourselves, sat here between us
And at the door, we can't say more, than just another day
Without a sound, I turn around, and I walk away
HomesickI am the river's son,
my arteries flowing turquoise
and turning to rapids
rushing around my frame,
filling me with this sense
of buoyancy, minnows
tickling my sternum.
I am the river's son.
My palms caress each
silty shoreline, every
battered bank and bend,
and these places I know
so well become me
as my fingerprint,
even the bridge above me
inflamed by the afternoon
sun-glow, burning rusty and
the steel blue sky.
I am the river's son;
I bring my home along
like hermit crab,
where I step
I pull water from the earth.
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More