Colon Hydrotherapist Salary In Florida

Fencer unarmed and naked (Jimena)

Jimena
your name was invented so do not write on walls or trees
to rhyme with others and not to me, not even yours ...
Your neck is half of the moon, my earth promised
be burning rubber on your heart to cut traffic
but I know that I am at a precipice that I will not name names ...
many square centimeters add your moles,
many key games in your mouth is lost in my body and do not know ...
I're without me, I absorb unwittingly
as verbs do not know that dwell within me and in any
underwater beasts deep sleep in a swamp of flesh that shakes
tremble trembles like the ashes of incense perfume
dead crouched who complains quietly tickling
flower names and moves you to appoint you go blind ...
And you close your eyes as if the world could do without
of these coals burning green
forever locked in a look that does not look
is just mouth-kissed landscape, unarmed fencer
and naked
hurts me more with her navel that I with my sword ...
marks / scars from a dance rehearsal in rink
are the scratches that have not given me back,
your moles are knots in the wood of a Stradivarius violin that no one touches
your neck is signed by Picasso at the height rose
and your navel is a raft offshore banks that are looking ...
is to send a telegram describe the score of a symphony
a harp while you untie the silence and make it into beating of the birds flying
blindfolded to recognize your perfume and you
deliver their feathers as an offering ...
're asleep now, I'm sure your clothes
awaits you as the apple skin waits in vain for the fruit is seen again
forks guard your hair is falling swords on the battlefield
but you're there belonging to all
you decoded the meaning of the cosmos and I
an oil slick stretching
extending to touch with the fingertips ... Jimena

the Sorcerer's Stone is your lipstick
and my shadow is your cat sleeping at the foot of your bed ... Amarte es
be convinced that there is a key contained in a flour sack and bury
hand in search and realize that just because you feel like
and no key or
locks lips just look out to nothing
ready to tangle in a senseless war and die for nothing
because we were born to kiss and be kissed
language versus language
and bats who sleep on our palates are frightened and run away anywhere
the middle of the jungle before he died ego and
see the lion who has your eyes eating a zebra having my own flesh
meat versus

"The Equivocal Woman (also Known As The teetering Woman)" by Max Ernst
http://www.maxernstmuseum.lvr.de/

Brain Aneurysm Break Throughs

eighteen carat Gold is made the arrowhead
that I remove the leg while myself fled the mazes
ego-end ...
Guest of the Seven Seas tar
my medal is zinc or cobalt
all I have is my heart wrapped in newspaper
and a tuning fork that I found lying in the womb of my mother ...
A deserted penthouse where Freemasons meet, and I named
say I'm dead skin around a gold tooth
and the fifth element is
oil and rice again and never milk elixir
become eternal in navel cord
forever sealed meat
and the keys to the house of my childhood carried in the womb by the wind
Cyclops eye of the storm chasing me over the rooftops of the psyche
bloody knife in his neck corseted two nipples hidden
cement that dips his bread in our blood
and eats alone at a table with two plates ...
rottweilers Flowers and shit in their gardens
and no philosopher's stone pavers only symbols such as a wall
metaphysical alchemy or science useless, rib Nimrod
secret sweeps the petals of a flower gold ...
under the bed and between porn magazines
emerald table reduces philosophy to a mole on my back
not be or be through the absolute
to quench the thirst of this paste of mercury, sulfur and salt
behind Rainbow knows there is more treasure
a copper lightning rod ...
The worst thing is looking at sea and plead guilty
holy undress and be naked with wings on the floor, and have
molotov cocktail in his hand and wanting to throw it to yourself pseudo
masturbatory and despotic king without a crown out of nowhere,
that Venus de Milo locked in a house of mirrors
deformed and subject of his hands buried playing member of another statue ...
theoretical gold there, is not measured with golden bars nor lead primohermano More
and more tear gas and rubber bullets to use against me
not silence the voice that whispers from the basement of the desert
real blood covered the last thirteen layers of linen and
that behind a mask of solid gold and not Chapter 125 of the Book of the Dead Tutankhamen
incorporates reunited say a word
the name of his mother ...
Nothing like dying young
mummified viscera custody of your fine jewelry and
and then violate your grave twice and three thousand years, you forget ...
Everything seems so much to me I'm afraid ... Poor soul

their offspring born dead twice and foot rests
was killed half bad and half of malaria Kohler
nature and is now stuffed
KV62

"Vacuous Adolescence" by Jeffrey Michael Harp
gallery

Chocolate Syrup Out Of Carpet

The Freemasons and The Sea Inside Tutankhamun

Dripping covered by tree roots hurricane eye that
made sure the wood of the coffin of someone
not mine ...
sap, juice of the earth, and the fog, icy breath of the moon,
forever alien and distant
unspeakable words in the ear of the desert
stabbed by the voice of a dying camel
saying goodbye humming a tune unpublished
morphine Symphony in C sharp ...
A stringless bass in the basement of myself
closes his eyes and sees a pair of ballet
that polio became a pair of mutilated
glass eyes drawn on a crumpled paper
and across the pizza delivery phone
and nearer me between the sheets, tubes and bandages
and deeper depths where I shot and I do not die
and a drop of serum and another and another
versus silence the noise of the sea waves ...
Dead Sea Dead Sea
reincarnated as a glass of water
three funds would be better targets
gin and death like a dog that barks at the ambulance
and then goes to sleep in bed
where the corpse of his master has left a gap to land
forever ...
to survive the poetic and medical history and be
sleeper kerosene torch fire centuries ago did not pronounce or meat
chemotherapy psychoanalytic Freud
a vegetarian who eats nails and the wax fruit
on the table and pours a glass of wine ...
'm a pile of bricks on a wheelchair
cancer landscape, silent pendulum, spring stuffed ...
That's the only truth
I just feel your hand on the nape
as who takes the pulse of a corpse
and the other on my chest, is a telegram
closed and your tears confirm that you understand me and even if you
sleep curled up like me want to die
because if I touch just
paralyzed like a bull in the third to kill the bullfighter lame foot
kiss and left the sword in his last kiss tongue steel ...
My will is written in the most hidden of my navel
I leave all to whom I untangle the hair in the morgue and pull my bust Bronze sea ...
Dead Sea Dead Sea
reincarnated as a barrel of oil
like petals of a flower swept
dismembered and the stray bullet lodged in the broken stem
after ending cocktail of falling forward
to infinity well
shadows where the seven seas are dead

"Sanctuary # 2" by Mary Daniel Hobson
http://www.marydanielhobson.com/
OFFSHORE Trailer (film by Alejandro Amenabar)

How To Create A Health Board

and the Vatican Pedophiles

Toro stallion
your member is a stake and thy seed dry tree branch
with which you write your name in the sand ...
A column pre-made flesh, who walks with crutches after
your steps with your eyes and your gesture is chasing you
exhausted until his steps back to the womb for life
and denies be your Carbon-14 and your astrolabe
withered petals of marble destined to spit the nest
veins of a leaf falling in the spring of thousand novescientos do not know how
drowning in the sea portrayed in the photos of children.
Son of Laius and Jocasta,
change of a harp string in the basement of the Palace,
candle in the fire, wax and fire as fencers who hate
is time to ventilate the middle Earth and the lava pouring into the bowl
although fish die ...
If you close your eyes reborn a handful of wind and foam knife,
the perfume is cursed, it attracts dogs dying
and scare you away and you end up
open your eyes and you're surrounded by black trash bags
dare you play with your foot and only a
was impossible not to cry, it was a dead dog,
was you and your father was, knotted bones as ingrown toenails,
and foundations
semen and semen sea level
and the height of the mouth also semen ...
pedophilia is called adult fingers to open a hole for itself
sex between the legs same as a child who is the stem of every effort,
give up the ass and psyche, and completed and returned to First,
and calluses on their hands something that is not known if saliva or crying while sweating
uneven uneven eyes blur
who knows when he finally closed and fall asleep ...
A vine grows in the back during sleep
and rats come and go in an unbearable tingling
the heart is an ice pack to the beat that beats leaky faucets and
crunch furniture are like caged lions roaring ... Half
silkworm, half worm dry
butterfly flight is dissected and contained in an algebraic expression
science kneeling at the feet of mud
the calf looking at anything like the horizon ...
All roads lead to Rome
and the womb of the Virgin Mary is a minefield over
detonation shattered the stained glass
Vatican and smoke always half black and half white
and never a God who fulfills the promise apocalyptic ...
female face, body of a lion, wings of a bird
the Sphinx and Oedipus, the stone lip of the Oracle and Apollo playing the lyre,
the words and music of the anthem were written in
nothing serves eyes removed with a utility knife
with the same blood is not always clean the crime scene,
the crime of being born ...

"Last Supper (The Evidence for the Existence of God)" by Gottfried Helnwein
http://hispano.helnwein.com/

Nortes Get Along With Crips?

The kleptomania and checkmate

Jaque mate
the battlefield is a black and white marsh
is Freud's body floating in the river, and silent all.
Mine and yours in the trenches of space and time ...
what's yours is your tongue and your belly, your palate and your nails
suspicious until the color of your eyes
smoke, smoke, fire drill, fire you started burning curtains and
all covered with kerosene ...
cornered The blood in your veins is known
guilty and have nowhere to hide your treasures
've covered all the ground crossings
and can not be U-turns in this two-way pendulum anesthetized
thrusting thrown in the middle of a bullring deserted. I recognized
by the port number, because it was mine,
entered and saw you looking at your shadow, extending your hand,
was nothing more than an attempt to take the fingerprints of another
to me knew it was just the beginning
you could see into the eyes of the victims as if they were the stained glass windows of a church
and singing in choirs have blind verses where God is a syllable or two
and where the bells ring calling to mass
and take over the pulse of the faithful ... Believe
sink in the Dead Sea with a gag that tells COPYRIGHT
while a hacker tunnels into your flesh reduced to binary numbers,
fractals have been dismembered and buried them at the teats of the body
do not know if it was called Buddha, Mahatma Gandhi, Che Guevara and Jesus .

Checkmate is a naval war in the desert
and your progress to stay with the sand of a ten-minute clock
and the voices of twenty centuries dumb knotted in a zip ...
shake the foundations in the roar of lions locked
and skin as moles cats crouch
and jump to your face and violently scratched you
calluses and scars will be concrete seas
where will you go to wet your toes to recognize unique ... You
and scars, the foreign and own, the innate and acquired
knotted in a dialectic spiral and persecutory
and red lights are raped every day thing
and collects doom and agony of not being or not being
pixel at constructing and deconstructing we will
to be impenetrable or totally vulnerable
Checkmate
two kings who hate and kill in a painless balance
two armies of the alien seeking
watch not know that they are equal
that nothing is on the other hand they is prohibited.
The pornographic to exist is anchored in the flesh of others
with you and your eyes lost in indescribable pleasure
with your saliva on my
sex with my semen in your pelvis saying something fuzzy
GAME OVER

"And the winner is ..." by David Whitlam
http://www.davidwhitlam.com/

Cs Source Launch -veryhigh

The pornstars and El Niño Time

carnivorous plant in the flesh is born and takes root in the bone
are certain your nipples and your navel and
piercing your tongue and your seven seas silicone
are as certain as these precious stones are not saying they were arrowheads.
Your clitoris is a dead rat choked intersection
and your belly a skylight that gives the carpet that I
spotted me and all the men chasing
Cleopatra centuries out of date on your face.
I invite you to my seventh ground for my language is key to the padlock
always open and we get together and alone at Passarella is in the valley of your breasts
dunes of stale bread soaked in boiling milk
and that Christ will paint the toenails because you confused with Magdalena
because it looks like all seek:
comfort.
And I want only one outbreak of you to bathe in semen, to spit in his mouth
to take it by the throat and choke him play,
and I do not distinguish yourself, not knowing what color your eyes
but I get ...
flooded I guess my sex or any
naked as the flowers trampled as cockroaches
looking for your clothes on the floor and your voice in the cry
onomatopoeia of the fire, moan of the logs, different
cry of fear
axes but only find the front of the murderer beat
fleeing the scene of the crime, the body of another ...
Carnivorous plant, soil in your pot tastes like sweat and saliva,
that land was transplanted from the dead tree that I
where now there is a gap on the half-hidden roots poke my
dazzled by the moonlight at dawn
milk and cry, cry and cling and clench their fists who
empty as if absent for a treasure buried in the ground of our hands
but it's just a desperate act of a narcissist who lost his face in the sea
we looked at the shore and watched the waves had not only reflect but the whole
to hide like a dog with bone
perhaps take it to you because I am more yours than mine
because you're the world and I an apple core and confinement
seeds and nothing else,
you have an anchor in the center of the horizon
an anchor that burns like a fire-and-white black. Let
heating the kettle and the oceans
child to rest and not crying tears flood
then gets up and looks at you and masturbates
and its fruit are waves of yards and yards
foam and salt will be everywhere
the smell will be impossible as your thighs are impossible
Lela Star, Rachel Foxxx, Angel Dark
and what to give more names if they are all the same
rack of Cain scattered
spotted entangled in a towel
semen and blood of all
men

"Reality is an Invention - Balthus" by Joel Peter Witkin
web (no) official