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by
Eliot
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If I was a poet
Poems
Jan 2018
Gradually, Yours.
His fingers are foolish
His provocative smile
His deadly warm breath strikes
Oh how he pulls me closer a bit every time
Not too much - not too less - he likes to take it slow
Yet he lingers in all the right place
Making me yearn for it more
Ran fingers across my chest
Making me weak to my knees'
Oh how he spun my whole world
between a glance and a kiss
Where the whole world stopped - for the briefest of times'
He witnessed my destruction
I'm addicted to hurting my love
Make me suffer !
I'm ready for redemption'
Written by
If I was a poet
24/F/Bangladesh.
(24/F/Bangladesh.)
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Ernesto Estefan
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