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It can only be from within your reach The hazy gap between her And the uncanny disclaimer that drawls her in deep, so fast. The mesmerizing portrait That catches her attention like the speed of light. Something to look so false and amusing To jump out, like a freshly painted picture. Clinging onto the, questioning binderies. A polished shine of A bud in full bloom. Ready to be picked by a lonesome thick pinch Just like her to be carried by a breath taking sensation Into a lonesome vase, as her home. Even though her voice cannot be heard It’s what’s being said in a sound that matters the most. Closing her hands and opening she sees there is nothing but a feeling of relief. An encounter of embracement that illuminates the clear sighs of happiness. Like a classic fairy tale that ends in a delighted foretelling beginning and ending. The pleasing scents of musky sweet delicate healed memory. Only now will she see her foretelling her own fairy tale. To be written and painted onto a bare faced skin canvas. Time approaching closer and closer The yearning Calculation Of Sensibilities.
0
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 1:04 AM UTC
It can only be from within your reach
It can only be from within your reach The hazy gap between her And the uncanny disclaimer that drawls her in deep, so fast. The mesmerizing portrait That catches her attention like the speed of light. Something to look so false and amusing To jump out, like a freshly painted picture. Clinging onto the, questioning binderies. A polished shine of A bud in full bloom. Ready to be picked by a lonesome thick pinch Just like her to be carried by a breath taking sensation Into a lonesome vase, as her home. Even though her voice cannot be heard It’s what’s being said in a sound that matters the most. Closing her hands and opening she sees there is nothing but a feeling of relief. An encounter of embracement that illuminates the clear sighs of happiness. Like a classic fairy tale that ends in a delighted foretelling beginning and ending. The pleasing scents of musky sweet delicate healed memory. Only now will she see her foretelling her own fairy tale. To be written and painted onto a bare faced skin canvas. Time approaching closer and closer The yearning Calculation Of Sensibilities.
isabella-h
Written by
American
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 1:04 AM UTC
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