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She smells like a meadow of Jasmine trees
Soft breeze carrying off her scent
To the sun shining upon her
Making her floral skirt bloom
And her hair gleam
Like little raindrops
Pierced by a beam of sunlight

Dear sun, touch my neck
Inhale my Jasmines
Burn my hair
And let the breeze play with my skirt
So that my thighs can be kissed by you



-LynnAA
Perfume is heavenly.
10/4/2015
The air is fresh and crisp, piercing through the sky,
My hands become sticky from the sap on the frosty mint pines,
The tree tops reach for the sky, just barely grazing it,
a cardinal, vibrant red against the landscape that used to be white, flies overhead,
Soon giving way to a field of smiling flowers,
They wave at me as they sway with the wind,
poppies speckled with paint splashed on them by the breeze,
And forget me nots, little bundles of joy lighter and brighter than the sky itself
A pond once covered in an layer of thin ice, sparkles with the morning sun,
On its side, Cat tails shimmer under an endless blue sky,
The only sound I Hear is the soft crackle of my feet on the scraggly grass,
Tickling my toes and telling me the oncoming spring has arrived
Nature poem
I think maybe I can give myself time
Teach myself to love you and only you
Learn the ways of isolation, confine myself to you
Maybe one day I will be able to do it without trying first
I often confuse love with loneliness
Give myself away just because I am tired of holding myself up
If only I could dig myself out of holes as easily as I dig myself into them
Digging my own grave just because it is something to do
I am trying to love you but love takes a little more work than I'd planned
I am not sure if time will be enough
Because time can't save anybody, it only adds wrinkles to your face and fatigues your body, you are only getting older
Maybe the hands on the clock are better off broken
Because imagination suddenly becomes matter and I am here standing in front of you trying to love you, and I do, so much, but not quite enough as I need to
And for that I am sorry
i.
thoughts have always accumulated
like dust bunnies in the corners of libraries, but i can't remove them.
you stay stuck against a wall of words and i cannot justify trapping you in my imaginings thusly.

ii.
they say eyes are windows to the soul but ***** windows don't count, do they?
I am brown eye and muddled, a soul of sin and confusion.
you are oceans and forest hills, a fairy nymph tucked into a human body.

iii.
what i'm trying to say is that i don't deserve you.

iv.
but i've loved you for so long, i forgot how to stop.

v.
memories burn me but i still like my showers scalding. anything to erase the press of your fingertips and the fires they created.

vi.
it doesn't work, you linger. it doesn't work and i doubt it ever will.
i still try though.

vii.
i am not good at writing prose but if you asked me to, i would write a thousand plays, a million poetic phrases where our friendship wouldn't end and loving you wouldn't be a goodbye.
Tired.
Wind and dark the night I pine
stark the grasp of longing
branched and vined
blue mourning
deep in soul
an echo
calling

When through my fingers
your hand slips
taste of your
fleeting kiss
lingers
drifts

Paper winged
when torn, I stutter, stammer
spiraling and falling
only in dreams softly sweet
once more a butterfly
brilliantly winging
Write it all
***, lies, secrets
Those things eating you up inside
The furious thoughts
Set them on fire
Your darkest kindling
Someone's gonna relate
They've all been there
We all live here
Write it all
It's been a thousand Saturdays,
     it's been a hundred harvest moons.
It's been one too many cups
     of coffee in the sun,
it's been a lifetime of blisters
     on the pads of your toes.
It's been more than enough time,
     it's been twenty-thousand stars.
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