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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Everyday Canvas
#927416 added January 19, 2018 at 11:43pm
Restrictions: None
At the Poolside
Prompt: Creative Saturday, have fun with these eight words.
spill // identification // curtain // chin // pool // wash // option // indication


===============

Poor dear! She spills all over you, and pulsing with pleasure, you unclothe your body and mind. Now, you have no option but to lower your chin and jump into the pool, pushing hard against the curtain of water that rises up on contact.

Her clear blue-green irises stare at you with a predictable indication of desire, tinged with determination. You, the flamboyant funambulist, boogying aquanaut, washed-out comic, float to the surface and turn from broadside to profile to revel in your identification of her applause, which sounds to me like a crack of doom on your ‘single’ status.

Yet, you still think you are the barracuda while her hook has sunk into your wide open mouth.

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