Napkins: Rare Poetry and Prose Archives, 1995-2004 by Steve Dustcircle - HTML preview

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Without Making a Sound (undated)

 

The sunrise was slightly brighter this morning

Its rays shone through the curtains upon your face

For hours now I have laid here and watched your breathing

Your beauty skips my heart, can't help but embrace

 

Your peaceful breath, your easy smile

I wonder if it's me you're dreaming of

Dare I stir you, dare I kiss you

How can I express this love

But for now I won't be loud

I'll love you without making a sound

 

The late night TV flickers light in our front room

And your head is gently at rest on my chest

I caress your hair and kiss your forehead gently

I meditate of my devotion, vows I'll keep till I'm laid at rest

 

 

Your God (via 2002)

 

Your god, incarnated fallacy
Your god, is another distant galaxy
Your god, full of unreachable gain
Your god, causes others to blame
Your god, is rather impotent
Your god, the east to the west ocean
Your god, seems not to tangibly speak
Your god, perhaps is asleep
Your god, makes fathers beat their kids
Your god, kills lovers over bids
Your god, splits ordained happy homes
Your god, demons quivering your bones
Your god, cancer that spreads fast
Your god, pungent as sulfuric gas
Your god, is nothing but a lowly snake
Your god, will soon die for his sake