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We looked inside some of the posts by sswaaas and here's what we found interesting.
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Notes Per Post
1K
Likes Per Post
913
Reblog Per Post
176
Reply Per Post
3
Time Between Posts
1 month
Number of Posts By Type
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17
Last Seen Tumblr Blogs
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Tumblr was created by web developers David Karp and Marco Arment.
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Build your ark. Be at your most peaceful. Leave your children to drown. Death to those who whimper. The bigger picture already framed. At my most beautiful. I dream of pink-feathered elephants. In a Room. I dreaded 24. I dreaded 27. I dreaded 29. Dread 30, 31, 32, 33, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, and it cues an alarm. F-bomb duds. My hysterical wires pool into an idle back-end, and blow out. Fried. Useless as the gold in bridges that are no longer a feat. San Francisco was ground zero. I snipped off my ring finger finally. Hands are for grabbing those of the person’s nextest to you. This way is up. As in squares. My children were taught Japanese. Stacked towering apart sideways. I’m made up of my father tongue. I jump over borders carrying a suitcase I have filled with hotel towels. In a Room: a big ship sunk. A plethora of suns. Middle of summer. Under the scorching Tillamook sky. In a Room. Leaving behind bread crumb trails. The big bad wolf. My light I send to thee. My life for your hand. In a room. In a big Room: a big ship sunk. Psychic Powers. Less devours. Myself, a clerk on the clock. All I am’s but all watered-down. Useless as dug up rock that eternalizes a vow. Glints of a freshly leveled mountain. In a Room. The blood it bleeds, it leaves behind. Fashion models walk up to the gods with lawyers marching down their sides. Up, down, and up and down until the only view is down. They throw a toast to their dear departed designer clothes. To the goddesses of the Ganges. The centuries of tons lot of ‘em. The voluminous life. Lawless as their breasts are bare and holy. For I am growing a tumor I can’t smell. Leapt up, I’m all burnt on one side. In a Room: the cracks you see are not unsimilar to the tree lines behind enemy lines. They bark’d. Down a slump, I’m deflated and sunk. I been done in in abstraction. I done been tossed down. In time, I believe April will come. Round the horn, she’ll come. Everybody knows nothing ever happens to two people on a green screen set. Or in the quiet in between the low notes. Jazz in the jam. Post-sex clean-up cummappance. Your dream girl exists among wraiths, and on radio call-ins she lets loose of the sorrow that haunts your after hours. A universe of nodes. In a Room: a blackhole lives in my heart. Ageless, though, it seems to me, it awaits atop the lookout for the poor less-aged to cross on over. All so purty. I brought out fishnets for Punch and Judy. Money travels at light speed. Nothing it sees anybody could touch. Thursdays could never be long enough for the both of U’s. The emotion bracing to finally reveal itself. I know you, and you would be impossible to find with your head sunk in somebody’s arm. Ecstasy attainable in dealing submission. Pleasure is a market we’ve long cracked. And what heights! Still mass is such. In a Room: I am. My heart’s a children’s playground. Monkey sees what she’s been at one time. Her eyes are the color of revolution. Repeating history blues. She must rises to the second horn. Second chorus horn blues. Her mother parked the trailer behind big, old, magnificent, deathless Earth. Was it love left me cold in the bathroom? Sunray’s liquid as gold is but it made me. Your silence was jarring to my wailing. Hallelujah, baby. Those eyes have made me. Hallelujah. I was present. Heck, what’s about my backsides? Now, of course, everybody here loves u. It takes a-one-two to tango with you. I hope I die inside the same pod that once carried your body to perfection. Even after a long nap, and if fate was especially inclined to accept you as such, I loves Annie Frank. My tender lovin’s made for Abrahamic times. Even when I’m rock-hard from rocking you back and forth, I loves Annie Frank. Even after I finally lost you to time, I loves Annie Frank. And when our dearest almighty Lord brought you forth to me as His dove, He loved Annie Frank. In a Room: the Lord made love to His love for Annie Frank. (The Wrong Age in 1998)
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this will always be one of my most prized possessions
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More of new stuff. Been absolutely in love with her lately.
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