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Jasmin A Aug 2018
I stare at you

                      and there's something

but                      nothing
Jasmin A Dec 2017
I love the way you put your stupid

hipster glasses on the collar of your

band t-shirts to fix your straight yet

messy brown hair that you haven't

washed in a week with a thick black

hair tie that you hate to wear on your

wrist when you don't need it because

it's so bulky so you put it in your front

pocket next to two strips of emergency

gum and a can of altiods which you

finish in a day and replace at night

I love when you air guitar in the

middle of Froyo Joe's most likely to a

song on The Front Bottoms CD you're

playing on your Walkman you got at

that one thrift store and everyone

stares at you then stares at me staring

at you, smiling and laughing so much.

And I love how you bow in the most

exaggerated way that anyone could

ever possibly bow because you air

guitared so impressively (you should

definitely start yourself a band) that

the unexpecting audience applauded

you for that marvelous performance

which definitely made their evening

And I love the way you look at me in

the train car when you're dragging me

to the next town because you finally

have enough money to go to the little

store that has the same name as that

one author you love and buy the

vintage coat that smells like moths and

depression because you want to wear

it and feel like a 1923 troubled rich

woman during an early midlife crisis.

I love when you tell me the things you

love about me at 3 a.m. in this diner

after you read to me that God-awful

poem about a woman who hates

shampoo and listens to blue grass

during all her classes and we're sitting

in this diner where all the food tastes

horribly like canola oil and salt and

I am immensely in love with you
Hmmmm... crap poem ? I think yes.

© Jasmin Aguinaga
Jasmin A Nov 2017
I want love.
Sad & true 'cause I miss you
Jasmin A Nov 2017
Back to the others.
       The sun gives louder compliments.

    We cherish those with words so wrecked.

                        May we move.
Be free.
  Continue to disappoint mother nature with our

Don't judge young me, okay?
Jasmin A Sep 2017
You let me go but I feel the warmth of your palm on mine. It's nice, I'll admit.  I've never felt something so special and innocent.

But I don't want innocent. Not now.  I don't want sweet writing. Your metaphors and happily-ever-after stories won't give me an

******. I want hot, luscious evening sweating in wild love sheets.  I want embers between my legs when we stop to catch a breath.

I want to yearn for your lips when they aren't on my skin.  I want to gasp when you touch me there. To see your smirk when I react as

you anticipate.  I want unbreakable eye-contact as we dance across the mattress to no particular beat.  I want to feel, see and taste

your soul through your magnificent body.  So throw away your words for now and make me pant in positions undiscovered by

anyone.  Make me finish so vehemently that the poor neighbors think I'm being maliciously murdered. That's all I need.
lol.... j.***
Jasmin A Aug 2017
You're a bouqet of wildflowers
I'm an average red rose
We're an odd set of valentine gifts

You're a sky dive over California
I'm a picnic in the park
We're a weird combination on a date

You're a sunset on the Bahamas
I'm a hot day in Arizona
We're so far apart

You're everything I want to be and have
I'm nothing you even think about
We're something that just can't be done
You can write better, I wrote this.... see what I mean?
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