bed

If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.

We thought everything would be forgotten, but I still remember yourclaws running down my back.I wonder if you still think about us,the way I do.How our legs would crash into each other in the middle of the night, and how we endedup creating the moon in the confines of our beds.

His hand lay across my stomach as he slept soundly. I entwined my fingers with his and breathed through the warmth that seeped through my chest. Such a simple, sweet thing to do, yet holding hands in bed was incredibly intimate.

Many a rich man__ bed is bigger than many a poor woman__ bedroom; his bedroom, her house.

What I am recommending to the unmarried person, therefore, comes straight out of the Word: Stay out of bed unless you there alone! I know that advice is difficult to put into practice today. But I didn't make the rules. I'm just passing them along. God's moral laws are not designed to oppress us or deprive us of pleasure. They are there to protect us from the devastation of sin, including disease, heartache, divorce, and spiritual death. Abstinence before marriage and fidelity afterward is the Creator's own plan, and no one has devised a way to improve on it.

DICK__ DESIREDick's eyes-Soft, cold, and blue-Meet Devonshire's-Dark, sexy, and yearning.Turning away-Dick grabs two packets of sugar-While Devonshire's eyes-Are still upon him-Pondering his every move.Is Dick a playboy,A ladies' man,A mans' man,Or a killer?Does his sex long for,Something hard-Or something soft?Does he need cream in his coffee-The screaming splash of a man,Or the sweet flow of a woman?Finishing up at the bar-Dick turns to leave-Meets Devonshire's gaze again-Hot, thirsty, and longing-But full of trepidation.Following the flow of etiquette-Dick shoots out of the cafe,Past Devonshire,And into a world of dashed hopes,And regrets.But Devonshire-No longer of two worlds-Rises in pursuit-Goes after Dick,And taps him on the shoulder.Dick gives a turn,Raises his shoulders,And smiles with interest-Taking Devonshire's hand,And asking his name.Devonshire answers-Desire.Dick invites Devonshire to dinner,Where he eats everything,Swallowing Dick's life stories,And devouring his misgivings.For dessert,Devonshire takes Dick home,Into his bed,Against his flesh,And gives Dick all of him-His deepest desires,The love in his eyes,And the fire in his soul.

Like a gift, beautifully wrapped at the foot of your bed each morning, today asks that you open it and enjoy everything inside. Exhaust yourself with all it has to offer!

This bed yawnsbeneath the weightof our absent selves.

In the parking lot, she drove and parked in a dark area with no other cars around. She reclined her seat, and listened to music. Outside there were trees, a ditch, a bridge; another parking lot. It was very dark. Maybe the Sasquatch would run out from the woods. Chelsea wouldn__ be afraid. She would calmly watch the Sasquatch jog into the ditch then out, hairy and strong and mysterious__o be so large yet so unknown; how could one cope except by running?__mash through some bushes, and sprint, perhaps, behind Wal-Mart, leaping over a shopping cart and barking. Did the Sasquatch bark? It used to alarm Chelsea that this might be all there was to her life, these hours alone each day and night__hinking things and not sharing them and then forgetting__he possibility of that would shock her a bit, trickily, like a three-part realization: that there was a bad idea out there; that that bad idea wasn__ out there, but here; and that she herself was that bad idea. But recently, and now, in her car, she just felt calm and perceiving, and a little consoled, even, by the sad idea of her own life, as if it were someone else__, already happened, in some other world, placed now in the core of her, like a pillow that was an entire life, of which when she felt exhausted by aloneness she could crumple and fall towards, like a little bed, something she could pretend, and believe, even (truly and unironically believe; why not?), was a real thing that had come from far away, through a place of no people, a place of people, and another place of no people, as a gift, for no occasion, but just because she needed__r perhaps deserved; did the world try in that way? to make things fair?__t.

She was sleeping on the bed like a novel that is yet to be read and he sat on the floor, reading her, moving his fingers through her hair and staring at her face like she was magic that none ever understood.

Dream takes you to skies and reality just to the bed.

A successful person's life is made up of a time when he gets out of bed, and a time he goes to bed; and in-between them is filled up with a time that he makes sure something definitely happened!

Don't wait for people to dress your bed for you, do it yourself and you'll be glad to sleep and feel relaxed.

This is the day the Lord himself has made! Do something on it before it begins to fade! Do something you have said! Do it before it's time for bed!

In between waking up from bed in the morning and going back in the evening, let something happen. God will bless that __omething_ for you.

I sleep and sleep and sleep, yet I still have an unquenchable thirst for it.

sometimes i wake upin the middleof the nightand findpoetry splatteredall over my bed.

In many a case, the phrase ____ like to get to know you better_ is a euphemism for __ want us to fuck.