PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The twinkle of Plethora Gems (you bought them from that Spartan; or should we say EARNED, trick?), sparkling magically, queens in a modestly contrasted woven basket which was your favorite floral thing braided with fine petal-strings, how it seemed to glow although somewhat, or mostly so you thought, hid from the thieves of those streets, were tucked away enough on the nightstand in the far corner of the room, by the bed, had sucked my wits straight into their ever enchanting abyss; so that nobody anticipated these relations next soon should come to bloom, so I found the more we define our own lives to the swerve of something greater (God, you might say), whilst simultaneously practicing that crass adaptation with the fearless nerve of an earthly sort of nihilistic twist, I cannot deter from the same self I have discovered thru and thrusting thirstily into your womb with sterile seed.