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Click hereAt 3am
last night, I awoke from a deep sleep
and thought of you
Miraculously,
you have planted your seed
and I carry you with me
like a fetus.
As a pregnant mother
speaks to her unborn child,
my thoughts float to you as clouds,
and disappear like puffs of smoke
without you.
Child,
who are you, sent awaken me,
as I slept like Rip Van Winkle
for a decade or more.
My poetry
is an orgasm of my mind
directed to you;
will you come with me?
I fantasize of you
as a dear friend
as the daughter I longed for
who was denied me,
and, yes, as a lover.
Thoughts
are like razors
which slice the raw edges
of exposed nerves.
I do not wish to wound thee
with these words.