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The Concrete Poet
Poems
Jun 2019
My breakfast order
On the menu,
open eyes , a smile,
the morning rod has risen,
the sun it rises too.
Sweat filled sheets,
the prior evenings music,
the scent of which I crave,
created by our body heat.
Dinner was gourmet as breakfast now awaits,
dessert had a sweetness never tasted,
my breakfast palette lies yearning,
it yearns my bodies fate.
Written by
The Concrete Poet
M
(M)
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Fawn
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Miss
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