Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
It is beautiful irony the way in which I have grown accustomed to the phenomenon of you. We were water in the open air; Fluidly in tune and with each ripple across the surface I fell deeper in love with the way that you moved. The subtle ways in which you're stir your tea; the steam reminding you of last night when our bodies waged wars and conquered one another. The revolutionary ardor that decorated the smile you paraded around; teasing the feeble flesh of men that craved a sip of your poisonous nectar. I have grown accustomed to the way in which the confusion pulls the veil over my eyes as you give away pieces of my heart disguising them as your own.
0
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
Accustomed
It is beautiful irony the way in which I have grown accustomed to the phenomenon of you. We were water in the open air; Fluidly in tune and with each ripple across the surface I fell deeper in love with the way that you moved. The subtle ways in which you're stir your tea; the steam reminding you of last night when our bodies waged wars and conquered one another. The revolutionary ardor that decorated the smile you paraded around; teasing the feeble flesh of men that craved a sip of your poisonous nectar. I have grown accustomed to the way in which the confusion pulls the veil over my eyes as you give away pieces of my heart disguising them as your own.
Notes Notes Notes Notes Notes Notes Notes Notes Notes Notes
MisterGranger
Written by
24/M/Dallas, TX
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem