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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/2-8-2026
Rated: XGC · Book · Detective · #2351835

Available, vulnerable, a gentleman, and waiting for her to look back ans she walks away.

I’m not in the know. I just know. Operators are on standby. Last chance.
February 8, 2026 at 2:56pm
February 8, 2026 at 2:56pm
#1107884
If I Had A Title…

If I had eyes
I’d look around this shared space,
see your easy smiles.
If I had ears
I’d tune into melodious notes of laughter.
Fit me for a nose
it would ascend nostrils,
drink in waves of crush-bean coffee-splendor —
baking bread expectant, in expansion.

All intoxicates a heart yearning existence, when…

a drunk fly haphazardly buzzes through our room,
braced by the 100-year, two by four walls,
floor by floor intersected —
material-dependent pipes weaving,
unseen through vacuums, void of memory,
divining sharp-turn-passages in perforate.

From fittings to furnace,
of life water chill to steaming,
haunched metal creatures prison-bolt
to the drained concrete foundation —
delivering in dank, in dark,
making all more temperate.

Careful to fine tune the soulless implements
and pay mind to a Goliath construct
with black-layered pate as canopy,
dispelling spillage from miles above —

dispensed cloud offerings
unfurl finger-tip nails
of chlorophyll-filling,
coif-photosynthesized hair returning,
as does a greening yard rug.

Specked eggs warm in nests,
lend to verdant arrival
in variant of octaves chirping,
in and out of the perpetual —
perceptible, given a brain encouraged.

Divinity is nature, is a good gas burner,
is a family spending time together
in any weather
where I consume all with nary a whisper.



2.7.25
40 lines

Just ‘cause I enjoy everything about us, but would rather watch the gathering with appreciation of all that contributes.



T̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ Ab̴̦̄̈͐̾̑̚͝s̸͉̻̃͘ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̰̅ͅcě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ o̷͍̥̣̺͋f̶̭̱̘͇͊͋̾̋̄͆ Wa̴͙͓̓̕vě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆l̵̩̘̯̪͋͒͒̉͒̄ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̅ͅg̸̫͙̻̭͐͝ț̴̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹̈́͌͆̑͋͂̅͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚            


The trivial talent I can’t rub in anyone’s face.
Word play ‘til the day I die.
Puzzle Solving


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/2-8-2026