the giant tortoise

This is the blog of Charisa, Pianist, Poet, Actress. Herein my poetry, tempests, exultations, tears and laughter are recorded upon glorious inspiration.

talk to me at dreambig16@hotmail.com

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She is red, vibrant, Pulsing to be seen, To be held and caressed. She is a petal releasing fragrance - Deep, scarlet scent; Will he notice? Will he be pleased? Oh agony! He breathes the air straight from her lungs. She is wilting - yet wills him deeper still, to uphold her crumbling strength. He is a god! A golden god. Her soul is bruised with his beauty.

Wednesday, August 06, 2003

I'm so strange. I catagorize my clothes when I fold them. It takes up so much of the floor space in my room, because there's like six differant piles of my clothes, in addition to my two sisters laundry. I've got my jeans pile, t-shirts-I-like pile, and t-shirts-I-don't-like pile, socks stack, paired pjs, seperate pjs, and skirts. It makes the putting-away part go much faster, really. Okay, whatever. I know it's weird.

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