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One of the first poems I actually put through a drafting process. It was actually written about a decade ago and published in my high school newspaper; was called down to the administration office because it was found to be a little too risque.

Primordial

B29559d4a577ce9da5357fb9f03a53abby Andrew Breen24 Aug 2013

When your thoughts mingle.
When your thoughts merge,
becoming entwined and mixed
like a sunrise.
Thoughts making love.
There’s a thought for you:
Thoughts. Making. Love.
Dancing.
Thoughts… spread out on the bed sheets.
Rolling, touching
each other
and
you.

Think, thoughts.
One, graceful and petite.
Another rigid and strong.
Swept up in a moment, all physical and not.
Tingling with excitement,
shaking with fear of the unknown.

Some pain
much pleasure
a little work on both parts.

One thought, penetrating another.
Another thought, not receptive at first
takes it in, playing with discovery.

Think, thoughts…
Caressing and rubbing against one another.
Grinding, dancing.
Not necessarily compatible
nor an improper fit.
They merge for one second
and another,
and another.
Moving like waves—crashing into each other.
Coming together. Then, falling
apart.

No harm done, just…
Just thoughts making love.
In you thoughts,
learning one another.
Testing for weakness
and strength.
When your thoughts merge.
When your thoughts touch,
can be messy
can be sick
can be…
Nothing.
Something, your thoughts
your thoughts, something.
Refreshing, thoughts merging.
Thoughts merging,
produce.
Like anything that mates and merges,
They become one through another.
Thought children
always named the same.
Emotion, noting else.
Thoughts…
Emotion…
You!
Think,
when thoughts mingle and
when thoughts merge. Emotion.
You.