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Delayed but not forgotten
was the song she played on repeat

in her mind's world.
For one day thought she knew would come
the one who'd come and sweep her,
right off of the cold fierce cobbled floor
right there at the subway station,
while  other girls would watch
in three-dee and be nervous, all in envy.
She smiled four million secret smiles
and grinned with relentless splendour,
at how a girl so thin, so short,
so shapeless and so lazy:
accompanied with big imperfect brows,
could dare to dream as she was.
It made no sense,
even to me,
how one lass could become,
well, not for love, that's certainly,
if clearly I remember.
But all, most definitely, from way too much daydreaming,
of how and when and what and whom
her right knight should devenir.
All details in sweet harmony,
the strength, the brain, the kindness!
One early Tuesday, one so fine,
in middle of November,
while pretty birds sang sonnets.
A youngish, moppish perfect Lord,
a guy to fit description,
just standing there,
amid the crowd,
with dreamy eyes and wavy hair,
a perfect heavy hairline.
Looking all lost and foolish struck,
but cutely so it got her.
She smiled a few more secret smiles
and breathed on her dry palms,
for who would wish a stinky breathe
wherefor a kiss might happen?
So skipingly, she moved along
right next to Mr. Cutey,
waving her palms,
her tiny palms,
over his face and saying,
some few little silly hellos
and pretty teeny nonsenses.
Wherefor he looked upon her face
with tiny sparkling desires,
open brown eyes,
slim salty lips,
soft bony cheeks,
while smiling.
she knew she had to taste them.
She smiled a one last secret smile
hoping in her distinct narrow mind,
for somehow, already she was aware,
he really was the right one,
yes, Mr. Knight
yes, confused Mr. Cutey.
They locked in hands
walking upwards a
monstrous busy street side,
plein of old stores and looks and thoughts
but one outstanding resto.
He stopped and stared but wouldn't move
right there at the resto's entrance.
Pointed he did, hauntingly,
at plates of burgers and Fishpies.
Then said she most intelligently,
"you'd love to eat, you hungry"
and when he nodded his wavy hair
she grew calm and they entered.
"A plate of tuna sandwich and chips",
was all she blankly ordered,
and so did he with puppy gaze
and silent Fanta drinking.
By half an hour their plates were empty
a thousand bliss overtook her
for now thought she,
" oh he must care
for having stayed with me so".
In fifteen minutes both hand in hand,
they walked on to her estate
right on until her front gate
her tiny garden.
He stopped and stepped in front of
her and starry-eyed proclaimed it,
for what she thought would be
a goodnight kiss or hopefully some
nights stand,
turned out to be a speech on how
externally grateful he was for
her kindness, brutal frustration and
most of all, importantly,
the nice meal at the resto.
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need balance

there's some beauty in darkness:
something interesting about
the way the air would heavily light
an irony of perfect juxtaposition. there's some beauty in ugly:
something intriguing about the
huge grotesque scars that
seem to never want to go away. there's some beauty in evil:
un peu de la purité in
the heart of a condemned man,
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bottled up emotions. these little beauties we
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aren't they the very things that
make living bearable? who would be good without the existence
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who would be beautiful without ugliness?
or what story could ever be told without scars? need beauty and ugliness,
need scars and healing oils,
need good and evil,
need all the balance to remain
steady and sane in this
crazy crazy world. need balance:
then imbalance to
balance the human equation
now and again.