..end of line.


Sick DolphinsThe day didn't seem too bad, Scott thought. The sun was not shining but the sky was bright just the same. The clouds weren't their usual dark grey, either. They were the bright white and ashen colour they were on days when the sun negotiated with the clouds but usually lost. One cloud in particular stood out above the rest, seeming to span from here to infinity as it slowly sank to earth like its many brethren. It seemed, as Scott looked up at it, that if one could walk on the clouds it would be the large snow-covered hill one needed to climb into heaven. The almost-lumberSick Dolphins


DancerDancer by Andrew Gonsalves (c) 2002Dancer
Her hips sway And the moon takes care To draw my eyes ever closer with each subtle stroke
Her face obscured By the soft shadows Drawing my breath As the moon rests behind
Her hair upon shoulders Flows with the breeze To draw forth the notion Of her eyes on me
Her feet brush the floor Whispers on the wood My ears drawn in the dark To clearest of tones
They blare in my head And draw to my heart False truths and ideas That she could be mine.


---Yours------Yours--- by jsenn---Yours---
The sound was arousing a word whispered
crystal twirling ice piercing in its purity.
I turned toward you as
the tone intensified, waves as phosphorescent seas shimmering through me.
The motion is rhythmic vibrations, eyes closed, in toxicated by you. I am the whispered sound, trembling,
unbroken, yours.
Joy Senn 4/25/2002


The ChancesThe Chances. by Andrew Gonsalves (c) 2002The Chances
You don't know my name We have never met And we probably never will But if we do, Can we make love?
The odds, you see Are far too steep To ever imagine Our chance of meeting.
In crossing, you see we cannot forsake This impossible feat And simply stare As we pass by.
just like old times
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