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Mar 2016
Your words taste of refination,
and your thoughts are laid before me.
You've undressed my mind.
unstrapped the armor of my heart.
Beautiful, intelligent woman that you are.
And so conquered man that I am,
I give unto thee your dues.
With a painters touch I trace your scars,
with a poets abstract I paint thee.
With a musicians freedom study you,
and proceed to pluck your strings,
I proceed to follow your beat.
For an artist am I.
And unto you belongs my artistry.
Tafuta Atarashī
Written by
Tafuta Atarashī  28/M/Chicago
(28/M/Chicago)   
358
     --- and Rose
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