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Cloudy...
the leaves turn golden.
Dark again.
We are little more
than the fevered dreams of atoms,
you and I.
Some days are meant to be wasted.
Maybe the classic summer day,
hot and sweaty
with the threat of storms.
Or the warm and rainy
spring morning...
when the Apple blossoms fall.
Perhaps a pristine autumn afternoon
with all the colors at their peak,
or time spent sitting in the window
watching the snow fall.
These are the perfect moments
that cost us nothing.
They are not added
to the tally of our days,
nor detract.
They are a time all their own,
a kiss blown from the universe
to me,
and you.
No straight line led me to you...
only crooked ones
would lead me astray.
Chasing fairies up the wall...
the cat
on Christmas night.
Never has something so small
held such a promise of pleasure...
your *******.
I want to immerse myself in you.
The fragrance of your hair,
breath upon my lips...
your *** scent,
the odor of sweat
and the deep musk of your ***.
I want to roll in your stench,
bathe myself in your smell,
wear you proudly
as my perfume
for all to inhale.
I hesitate
to wash you off of me.
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