actualexperience
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I have awoken with dreamy eyes In too many unfamiliar placesOn warm exotic beaches - in inexpensive inner city beds
Under my shirt is my skin
under my skin is my heart
under my heart, boiling water
an ocean above flames.
The fuel, words
a combination they call poetry
metaphors and similes
I took a walk up to the hill
It sure is a good night for this
My arms feel the air and its chill
The quiet sounds so much like bliss
My feet crunch through leaves that fell down
It is the only sound I hear
