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How do you taste a woman?
Do you let your breath
Take over her skin
Or do you,
Gently
Uncover
Her treacherous,
Deceitful, delightful touch?

Do you take her sight for granted,
As if it was yours to own,
As if she would
Never vanish,
Or do you know
She's nothing more
Than a chimera on a wall,
Than Clotho's spinning thread
In an ancient story of forgiveness...

Do you trust her soft and humid body,
Like a silky cloth soaked in
Spicy peppermint oil,
Or do you fear
Her lips
As if they'll
Harm the pulse
Of your easily grown
Desire for all that she has enchanted?

Do you let her fingers linger
Somewhere in between
The locks of hair,
As they were
Her only to poses,
And make them come alive
Like serpents shadows on a desert's moonlight?

All in all, a woman cannot be
Taken for granted,
As she isn't there
Only because
You see her
Near.
No.
A woman is
A passing shadow
For your mesmerized vision.

A woman is that summer rain
On your heated body,
Or that devastating
Storm on a
Moroccan
Desert.
She is both
Dust and wind,
Love and hatred,
Hope and despair.
She is nothing more
Than clear, cold water.

So drink the woman
As you taste
Water
Turned
Into good wine
And tell me, stranger...
How do you taste a woman?
thank you for all your comments and likes. never thought that this poem would be so appreciated. thank you again and again.
  May 2017 RIGIDStephany Paola Goico
TG
Ten thousand leaves fell
with a single wisp of air
that escaped from your lips
as you smile;

that is how rapturously I fell in love
with you.
she's a corrosive story
Hidden within a mirror
Never to be heard again

As I gulp down my favorite cheap *****
I wondered  with amazement at my ignorance
And the vicious adage that crippled me
love is blind

You were a ruthless callous soul
and still
remnants of your cold heart still linger in my thoughts
loving you was devastating
I wish it would
well rain harder
I wish that
the sky water would be salty
like my tears.
this way both could slide down my face unidentifiable
I wish the thunder was louder
just to help save me from my thoughts

I love how
well simply how
I'm walking to the beat,
crunching gravel to meet the sound
of my favorite song
even though it's no longer playing
I love that
the rain is blurring my vision
eventhough I couldn't see anyway
I love that with every step
I'm taking a shower
the rain provides me with good cleansing
I'm slowly scrubbing away every
remark, laugh, judge, scar and stain
and as my jeans, blouse, and shoes get wet,
I'm washing away some of this too
hidden deep within the seams

and yet some people wonder
why
why does she like the rain
well
It's not just rain
it's a friend
that I can talk to and actually leave with
a cleansed soul.
"can we pretend that this never happened? can we pretend that the photo's on my phone, the pictures on the wall, the poems in my book the endless number of calls, the days out, the days in, the days somewhere inbetween, the nights, the lessons taught, the stories told and retold, till we both know them better than the back of our hands that touched when we didn't want them too, but i did, i did, i did."

tear it out cleanly.
it can heal i can deal with the scars i'm not afraid anymore
but i can't sustain this.
do not resuscitate me.
You left me .
You left without a letter.
You left without a goodbye.
******* came into my life without even saying hello. You didn't  introduce yourself, you barged in through the doors of my heart, and expected me to immediately make room for you, and so i did.
I pushed things aside, and i swept under the rug. While you propped your feet on my back, i vacuumed myself up and cleaned myself up to please you. I became invisible, just for your liking. You would leave me vacant for days on end using my body as a time machine, and when you arrived back "Home" you expected a ******* sandwich and a beer. The day you left you turned me into an empty warehouse. You took everything. The fridge, the stove, the couch, the microwave;  And worst of all you didn't even sweep up the **** under the rug. I picked it up. I did. Putting myself back together one ***** piece at a time. And every day after that i visited the furniture store, finding pieces that complimented my soul better than the ones you took. I turned my warehouse into a castle. Perfect for the Queen who occupied it, all to herself.

S.G
"Sometimes We Give Ourself The Love We Think We Deserve" - Perks of Being a Wallflower .
Meet me halfway between the
music and the melody
the apathy and the agony
the laughter and the tears

Meet me where we first met
and give me the day
to make you smile
and even if its for a little while
let me forget that
You're not here now
any-more than

I can see the wind
or the thing that makes life
or death that lies around those unseen corners of our lives
greedy

come meet me half way between this road and that
and kiss me off
send me away
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