Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Daily Grind

Grinding it into your face at a pace that’s better for me than you
Too taking what I will what I can
Damn man
No wasted time, this leaves me breathless in the night. Despite
The hurried pace, this race is won only when all are complete.
The heat in my heart lub-dubbing to a cool down
Where tongues are synchronous swimmers
And an ecstatic whimper indicates this race may have only just begun.

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