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(Sip, sip)
     It
Trickles
       Down
     My
  Throat
The warmth
  Hitting
      My
   Chest
      Like
       A
     Perfect
       CRASH.
      Lungs... EXPAND........
      As
       I
      breathe
     You
        In.
      The
      Empty glass
       F
       A
       L
        L
        S
   I pick it up,
                        and drink you again.
©️ 2021 Joshua Reece Wylie. All rights reserved.
A spontaneous poem, with no influence but based on the theme of love. But what love is it about and what is inside the glass?
....
YOU DECIDE!
Douglas Balmain Mar 2021
This is how the body looks now:
    empty, estranged…
its parts arguing their cases
for emancipation,
sovereignty from the system—
each component demanding
overt consent from all others
before further engaging
in vital collaborations.

This is how the body looks now:
    formless, dissociated…
the war for Independence and
Recognition has left us
devastated by the divisions
of definition—disjointed
structures of severed relations
disavowed of the Whole.
Originally published at https://www.douglasbalmain.com/thisishowthebodylooks.html
Ley Mar 2021
we have never experienced as little
as brushing hands
and yet you have
every inch
of my body memorized
دema flutter Mar 2021
woke up
on a decision
that the day is
finally here,

today is the day
I take over this
body of mine,

today I make the decisions,
today I draw the line,
today I live the moment,
today I manifest my
aesthetic into a lifestyle,

today I will act
like the main character
I am in this
story of mine,

and that's that.
Slow kisses and fast heartbeats,
Soft fingers and crushed sheets.
No inch untouched with your violet lips all around,
Cover me with your skin because I desire to be brown.
Gasp close to my ear and make me moan,
Let the fire flow from flesh to bone.
Run your palms through my hair,
Look me in the eye and make it worth a stare.
Drench me with the wine so white,
Decorate me at the sinful night.
Allow my neck to feel your tongue gliding,
Tolerate your back to undergo tracing.
Mind full of power; but body being hungry!
A forbidden soul; taste of **** poetry.
-Aishwarya Kulkarni
I am worthy.
I am worthy,
of the smile that departs from my lips in the mirror every morning.
I am worthy,
of feeling fulfilled and confident in this body.
I am worthy,
of affection, gratitude, and respect.
I am worthy,
of this, and so much more.
https://www.instagram.com/wutheringsbronte/
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