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peyton-curran
peyton-curran
American
To walk down the cobblestone in her long white dress The sun streaming down gleaming off her shoulders. He follows close behind and is mesmerized with her sway She yearns for him to look at her like she's the only one. Her smile brighter than a thousand suns He knows she's the only one. This is his wife.
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Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
The wife
Thick hair shaping a bun rests on her head, Frantically shuffling, brewing, and pouring. I watch her as the corners of her mouth curve, Perplexed am I by the beauty behind the bar. Lifting her head in a midst of her coffee frenzy, She peers in my direction with her metallic green eyes. It was right then I forgot everything I had known, All that mattered, was this beautiful barista.
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
The Barista
Your hand slides across the small of my back Your hair graces down my navel as your knees grasp the floor Your soft wet lips and their desire to purse every inch of my being You seek and desire I pursue and act upon you
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
Desire
We long for warmth against our dry skin Every breath more apparent then before Ice crystals cling to our untamed hair All of our spirits become dull We are winter torn
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
Winter Torn