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blushing prince Aug 2018
morning light is always the most beautiful
there's a kind of tenderness that borders on pure naivete
an inexperienced fracture of grace that
unfortunately the sunset does not contain
although i am never awake for it
i am acutely aware of it behind closed eyelids
There's an optimism I've never felt on the creases of my palms

i wish i could explain to you
how boring that art gallery was
i can't remember what color shirt i was wearing
there's a lot of things i'm only half there for
i'll drift to nowhere precise and my eyes will get that faraway glow of a look and you'll think i'm in love
but it's just my inattentiveness to stay in my body for long
i'm less devil may care and more jitterbug hiding it's own epileptic seizure

i guess it's all about forgetting things and then trying to find where you put them
sometimes you stop looking altogether and come to terms with the fact that some things want to remain lost
morning light is always the most beautiful
this is a careful deconstruction on how i feel about delicate and ethereal things
Danielle Aug 2018
Drunk with dreams,
           drowned in tears,
           dreadful glimpse
                 I can't look away.
Dim the lights
           with delicate fears
           and drop the vermillion piece.

Covered with blankets
saturated series,
like a champagne and the stars.
She Writes Aug 2018
I love delicate moments
When we hold each other
A few seconds too long
Before time separates us again
As it always does
Without apology
faa Jul 2018
Your fingers swept
Delicately grasping
The Heartstrings
I never knew existed
The Heartstrings
I thought were split

After so much trauma
After so much agony

As of current
The string are now
Between your fingertips
You tugged
You played
Mildly, wildly
Orchestrating
As you pleased
with much caution
Allowing them
To stay intact
And not snap

Regardless of
How suddenly you found
my Heartstrings I lost
I trusted you to play
The same way
You trusted me to stay
He has a spot beneath his ribcage.
I often find myself touching the soft skin that dips on his body.
He can be so ******* me yet his lips are soft.
He has gentle caring eyes.
Murky.
Never have I seen a set of blue as amazing as his.
Sometimes the gap in his teeth can be sighted between his pink lips.
And I know he thinks he is ordinary.
But I want him to know he is beautiful.
And like no other person I've ever known.
He will not let me love him.
I know he doesn't believe when I say the words.
He doesn't want to.
I show him by touching the scruff on his delicate face.
I show him by asking for one more kiss even when he is tired and agitated.
I'll always desire his presence and his skin on mine.
He will not let me love him.
Yet I do
Loving him is hard when he won't allow me to. I don't believe he means it when he says he loves me. But I am patient.
Ansley Jul 2018
Congratulations! You got:
Venus flytrap
This means:
You are not beautiful. You are ugly. A nuisance to someone else is what you need to survive but you can only **** and devour that which is small. You do not make a difference to humans. However, Venus Flytrap, someone will love you and love and then love you wrong. They will appreciate the drive and theatrics but you are too delicate as you need things other than the problems you're so dedicated too.
Once again, congratulations!
Venus Flytraps need the same things as other plants do.
Payton Hayes Jul 2018
There is so much power
in the delicate touch
of your hands caressing
my own.

Yet, this power, a force
even stronger than gravity,
and softer than a feather
binds me
to you.
Rsebd Jun 2018
Her legs opened in the fashion a flower blooms,
proper and poised.
She exposed to me a rarity, the most exotic of fruits.
She offered herself to me and I gratefully accepted.
There is something so beautiful about a partially tamed woman.
The thickness behind her hips rested gently in my hands.
I kissed the tender flesh of her inner thigh,
all while teasing her with my fingers.

She’s soft as snow but warm inside.

Her skin tasted of sugar and spice,
my fingers like candy.
I was hypnotized the moment her pearl touched my lips
and I tasted the sweetness of her desires.
She had me where she wanted me and I didn’t let up.
Her pit wept upon my chin while I devoured the surrounding fruit.
I felt her body shake and I knew she had nothing more to give.
I leaned back to lick the spot just below my lip,
I marvel at the flavor of you.
Delicate and sweet.
I surrender.
rohese, a delicate, and beautiful flower;
wonderful to touch but painful to hold.
thus, a hand that wants rohese
must love and accept its thorn.
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