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  Jun 2016 Dafne Maradiaga
wounded
if i could paint like michelangelo
your beauty is all that i would draw

if i could carve you out of marble
venus de milo would blush in awe

god was definitely on his a game
when he graced the world with you

angels peeked then hid their eyes
unaccustomed to such a lovely view

in you they’d see their imperfection
and fade to a pale and envious green

picture the most spectacular sunrise
or a lush and lovely tropical scene

i’ve searched to find a lovelier vision
but clearly nothing could compare

my love, your enchantment has no rival
a flawless diamond would be less rare

your beauty defies my feeble prose
your lips sparkle like the finest wine

shakespeare’s pen could not describe
the joy i feel in knowing you’re mine
Dafne Maradiaga Jun 2016
Impossibilities
What are they?
Are you for sure they’re real?
Are they really impossibilities
Or are they things you think impossible
Even though they stare right at your face
Even though they tap on your shoulder
Even though they knock on your door
Even though you hear their screams
Even though you pretend not to notice
Are they impossible?

— The End —