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i fall in love with everyone
and my lips are never chapped
  so now i eat cinnamon toast
   and i paint the sun
    with blackberry juice
 Apr 2017 Phoenix Bekkedal
Colm
You’ll have to let me know,
How long that fragile peace will last.

How long you’ll be content with not knowing why something bothers you,
And why such thoughts will not settle and pass.

Would you let me know then, and how that was?
So that I can say, I've been there as well.

For the truth is that, most people are meant, but not for us.
Such people are nice, but not enough.

That is, in time.
They are dulcet and sweet, but cannot satisfy the vastness, or thirst of an ocean mind.
Not today, or tomorrow, or next week. But in due time. Perhaps also in mind. You'll see what I see from this other side.

*slow and honest nod*
 Apr 2017 Phoenix Bekkedal
mike
If God's gift is violence
And we wage it in his honor
Then in fighting against God
We become his greatest trophies.
How do you taste a woman?
Do you let your breath
Take over her skin
Or do you,
Gently
Uncover
Her treacherous,
Deceitful, delightful touch?

Do you take her sight for granted,
As if it was yours to own,
As if she would
Never vanish,
Or do you know
She's nothing more
Than a chimera on a wall,
Than Clotho's spinning thread
In an ancient story of forgiveness...

Do you trust her soft and humid body,
Like a silky cloth soaked in
Spicy peppermint oil,
Or do you fear
Her lips
As if they'll
Harm the pulse
Of your easily grown
Desire for all that she has enchanted?

Do you let her fingers linger
Somewhere in between
The locks of hair,
As they were
Her only to poses,
And make them come alive
Like serpents shadows on a desert's moonlight?

All in all, a woman cannot be
Taken for granted,
As she isn't there
Only because
You see her
Near.
No.
A woman is
A passing shadow
For your mesmerized vision.

A woman is that summer rain
On your heated body,
Or that devastating
Storm on a
Moroccan
Desert.
She is both
Dust and wind,
Love and hatred,
Hope and despair.
She is nothing more
Than clear, cold water.

So drink the woman
As you taste
Water
Turned
Into good wine
And tell me, stranger...
How do you taste a woman?
thank you for all your comments and likes. never thought that this poem would be so appreciated. thank you again and again.
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