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994 · Nov 2014
Woman
Bianca C Nov 2014
Woman.
You are a band of instruments playing autumn inspired symphonies
Your tears are as pure and sweet as ice-cream
And your lips have butterflies pulling at either corner so when you smile the entire world feels the flutters in the pits their stomach.
You are the personification of love.
You are the skeleton to the story of peace
You piece together broken promises with your nurturing trachea,
Cause your voice is the physiotherapy urging crippled emotions to walk on and possibly run into the arms of your affection.
Woman you are a dormant spring that has come to life in a man’s desert heart
That’s why they drown in your gaze, woman you deserve praise.
You are a bouquet of beauty.
The metaphor behind the word integrity, grace is your only disability and unconditional love is still a possibility as long as you exist.
Cultural roots are embedded deep within your umbilical cord
So you were cordially invited by mother nature to plant a seed, she poured you out into this earth
You were birthed through the canal of a rose and you blossomed filling this earth with your sweet fragrance
You are not just a diamond; you are the rough embracing and creating greatness
You are a rock, strong and unbreakable
Your passion is as tangible as your curves  
You’re the entrepreneur to encouraging words
Your vision is as clear as your diction
All the lost and unloved run to you because you woman, are the most effective prescription.
Bianca C Nov 2014
Do you know how much I want you?
I yearn for a spiritual connection with you, bound with strings of trust
You’re the sunshine to my day, my craving for coffee in the morning
I think about you while breaking up blueberry muffins and sipping on freshly squeezed orange juice
You’re the ginger to my tea, the extra sugar that I sneak in on the days I feel like I need the extra rush
I long to crush you in my palms, remove the buds of uncertainty, roll you up in affection and inhale you like you were the last molecule of oxygen inside of a **** chamber
I want you.
Thinking of you is as sacred as my cups of Milo on a rainy day
The smell of rain drops colliding with the soil make me coil up into the corner of my mind that you’ve rightfully claimed as your own
I crave you
Crushers and ice cream do not compare
Our conversations fulfill me, I’m satisfied by your every thought
Your eyebrows are the interpreters of your deepest ponderings.
Your smile Is the wrecking ball smashing down wall of security, you tumbled into my life knocking me over in the process.
I landed face first.

— The End —