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You taught me what it's like
And now I can't get it back
You've showed me a whole new world
And now I can't go back
It's like I've been
Invited in
Only to be locked out
A Beauty you are out and within
I have an insatiable desire to write poetry on your skin
Your body my canvas feel my gentle brush
Writing ******* with my ****** touch
Cinnamon lips I love your tone
Soft and silky to the bone
Finding words..be my guide
As we connect I come inside
Filling each other..there's no strain
Steady my thoughts I must maintain
Watching my penmanship using a steady stroke
I start hallucinating from my mental smoke
Sends me into a frenzied flow
I'll find my pace..go on a roll
My words soak in as you taste
My emotions invade your inner space
Down from your toes..Up to your eyes
Writing Haikus between your thighs
Poetry on your body every inch
You start writhing from my Scorpion pinch
Sinfully venomous my words forever sink
Into your skin my poetic tattoo ink
As you lay naked I visually feast
Every line of your body a masterpiece..
M.A.N 3-7-14 One of my favorites I really enjoyed writing this poem..^_*  ♏
I can't take another day of running into the ground head first trying to catch something that may as well be non-existent.
I cannot look at you anymore with a mirage of love in my eyes when we both know the spark between us was never fed enough oxygen.
I won't allow fear or anger to manipulate what my heart vividly sees.
I will not live in this perpetual ******* darkness while the earth still shines.

All that's left to do is put one foot ahead of the other.
When I fee I'm rich, I see someone richer.
When I feel I'm poor, I see someone poorer.
When I feel I'm a poet, I read a real rhymer.
When I feel like an idiot, I look in the mirror.
When I am cheerful: “enjoy it, while it lasts.”
When I am cheerless: “bare it, it will not last.”
There's never a bad time for introspection
--x--
 Jul 2014 Margrett Gold
kelia
its romantic how we get each other through a thursday night
its sad how you’ll never see that smudge of red lipstick just below my lip
misplaced, you would have said, beautifully misplaced
and i’ll ask which film is lighting up your face

it is ladies night, it is free well-drinks
and so i start every order with ‘well,’ and a sigh
and i tip the bartender with daisies
i never was good with money, flowers are a currency

and you find some kind of eloquent word to describe me walking home alone
beautiful, endearing, and you forget to mention that its unsafe
“you should have some company”
and i forget to mention that i wish it was you

so instead i laugh and swoon on the phone with a former lover
taking a break every so often
send a text that i’m still eloquently walking,
my heels writing love letters to you
i've never been to
a confessional but i
told you i loved  you
while you held me in a
dark bedroom and i
think that's close
enough.
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