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Dinesh Padisetti Jul 2020
Choose me one day
Instead of all those men
Take me home and
Make love like there's no tomorrow

Let's not fall asleep
Reading each other's heart out
All those poems we wrote
Fo people we'll never meet
She was a goddess indeed...
Maria Etre Jul 2020
“(Go)rgeous morning sunrise”
between (t)he m(o)untains
glittering (the) dusty pollen
(la)mi(n)ating her gol(d)en hair
“**** woman for teenage boys”
rich with magic and gilded with lust
(where poetry is you and me).
Colm Jan 2020
Evident, conscious
Are your curls aware of me?
As I am captured
By a gentle turning lock
A wave in the subtle trees
Some writes are truly as simplistic as this. The girl in front of me had curly hair. The kind that greets you with a turn of the head and shimmers like leaves in the earthy autumn.

Very pretty.

Sunday Seven (or S7) is a series of tanka verses (57577) which I completed one cloudy Sunday afternoon. With topics ranging from the faithfulness of dawn to the depths if the ocean home, I hope you enjoy reading them and can appreciate the height and depth of this variety.
Marri Dec 2019
You look at her,
She's beautiful,
She's funny,
And unique.

She isn't her.

You look at her dark straight hair.
You stare--
Touch it even.

It slowly transforms into curly twists before your eyes.
You stare in disbelief;
Rub your eyes.

You stare at her round sweet face,
Her pretty eyes,
And her petite lips.

It shape shifts into a strong jawline,
Gorgeous brown eyes (that you fell in love with once),
And soft vivacious lips.

You rub your eyes.

You hear her voice,
It's soft and new.
You smile.

Soon her voice mixes into another,
It's so velvet and mesmerizing.
You can't believe it.

Everywhere you look, images of the girl appear,
Every song you hear is sung by her,
And every sleeping-waking thoughts you have is her.

Aren't you over it?

You tangle your hand into hers.
Hoping the image will stay.
You hold onto her,
Begging the feeling to never stray.

You coil back, and
You look at her.

She isn't me--

And she never will be.
A beautiful creation
A powerful persuation
Underestimates nation
Build the foundation
In my heart navigation
Hey! You curly haired
The one let the coffee said
I'm warmer than her
Be careful!
Don't get burned sir!
Anastasia Jun 2019
what a smile
a splendid grin
lovely eyes
letting light in
a laugh
like butterflies
from an airborne stone.
a touch
like warm snow
a blanket
to move and mold
a voice
like blooming dahlias
soft and curled
to fold around me
and joy
in your embrace
is all the more sweeter
with you
c.b. ♥
Hannah Oct 2017
to me he is human.
a tad more human than the rest of us
he is the sunrise i long to see
and the sunset i know so well
he is the first star i see at night
he is what i wish for upon that star
he is the song you never get turned off of hearing
or the place you go  that never seems to get dull
his voice sounds of adolescence and desire
his body as gentle as the ripples of the ocean at night
do i dare dip my toes in?
do i dare dip my toes in know the waves are coming
not knowing what lies beneath
he is so much like the ocean
so unknown
why do we love the ocean so much
is it because of its beauty
or because its one thing on this God forsaken plant we see so much of but really know nothing about  
is that why i love him
the wanting a curiosity of knowing what i see all the time
he is my breaking piont
you are the curly headed boy who broke me
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