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Javanne 2d
Have you read me yet?
I tell a story that is
Straightforward and humble in it's beginning
Where I coddle you in the warmth
Show you joy in my words
You admire this journey
That we are about to embark

Then, a problem arises
But you stop halfway
And dog-ear me
Leave me in a predicament
That I have to replay over and
Over and over
Stuck in an endless...

Did I disappoint you?
Was the problem too disturbing?
Did it leave you perplexed?
Was it too graphic in the depictions of
What lurked towards the ending?

When will you read me again?
I feel the words starting to take their leave
I hear they're having a wonderful time in the sun
But I fear that
As time has gone on
My ending has been stained and rewritten to
Blank pages
So even if you wanted to read me again
Unfortunately, you will never know
How my story ends.
A/N: You should probably take care of your books...
Javanne 3d
Splayed roses
Dying gracefully in their plastic vase
The stale scent of cocoa
Mined from the tropics and shipped
To our disorganised abode

The day is done
The sun sneaks back
Slumped birds rouse

And here I find
That I still
adore you.
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?
Javanne 4d
Tousled silk sheets
My hands meld
In to yours

You wished for roses
And so it was granted
A dozen or so

You pleaded for our tongues
To tango in unison
but our hips had other plans

You straddled my temptation
kept an

For us, it is never night
Just the inverse
Of a universe
That was made
For us and our delights

So for our ******
I thank
The Valentines of the past
For allowing
A true Goddess
To find their equal
On earth!
A/N: I hope you're not lactose intolerant because I've serving you cheese this valentines.
Javanne 4d
You aren't a rose
Roses decay after a week
But you-
You are something that
Takes death and
Crushes it in your hand
How you do that is magic-
Magic that only you wield

You do not flounder
But rather
You transfix me
I see nothing but you
A/N: In the spirit of valentines~  also it was from a prompt to write what you saw on twitter which was a rose.
Javanne 5d
Me and a friend were talking
They asked me
“Is there anything as radiant as the moon?”
I paused
Felt the muscles around my lips spasm and answered
“There is”

We continued walking
They asked me
“Is there anything more blinding than that blistering sun above us?”
I stopped
Felt my pores open their floodgates and answered
“There is, and just as fiery too”

We stopped by a pier and watched as the waves rolled in
They asked me
“Is there anything as gentle as the rocking of those ocean waves?”
I closed my eyes
Felt the sea breeze scent mark me and answered
“There is, and it’s a sight to see”

We said our goodbyes for the evening
But before they left, they asked me
“Are you sure that there is something that is even more radiant, blinding and gentle as mother Gaia?”
I took their hand, clasped it with my own and answered
“There is, and when it grips your soul with its feathered touch, Only then will you understand.”
A/N: Love poems are my weakness and I enjoy writing them so much.
Javanne Feb 6
My chest…
Is on fire
I feel these flames
Gradually make their way
Through my fluctuating state of
Pure joy and **** near dread

I feel these flames
Transform themselves into a
Unstoppable sweltering inferno that
Soldiers through
Burning tunnels and chars’ arteries that
Lead only to
Pure ecstasy and **** near ruin

How my chest, with such a
Enraging inferno that
Threatens to engulf me,
Each intake of breath fanning its heat,
Turning me into my own wicker man
Is able to withstand
Such intensity
Is a mystery that only those
Who have been handed back roses
Will understand.
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