It was all the rage
in the food industry or so they implied It was easier to go down the bakery aisle or so they justified It was how so many men preferred to see dessert or so they specified But to her way of thinking it just never looked right no matter how she tried
I am Eve
I know I am life I know why a heart beats I know why the cat sleeps Far too much I know why the moon glows I know why the mould grows In the bread bin I know why the earth shakes I know why the dog wakes And barks at the world I know why the wind moans I know why we break bones When falling off benches I know why the stars shine I know how to write a couplet As grand as Shakespeare I know why the trees groan I know why the hormones Rush through teenagers I know why we exist I know why we like lists And ticking off the boxes I know why you and I Can stare at the same big sky And see a different thing I am the raging turbulent seas I am a cold cup of tea I am whatever you make of me.
Hey there, inspired by I Am Talesin
Isn't it a pity that,
what she and I have might be a foretold; untold tale? This writhing soul might be a fool to be - t a n t a l i z e d - by her honey-like scent, with the topical rose redolence; percolating every existing room for air in my thickly tar-scarred lungs from every hush of her troubled breath--- only then to realise that every passing seconds spent have always been a constellation of == inane innuendo == to pique the lovelorn in me.
There's always something in me that's been worried of her troubled breathing. She doesn't smoke, so I'm concerned. I mean, her lungs aren't tar-scarred like mine.
P.S: I like the smell of her perfume.
open up Less upclose hint:
upsidedown absorb unwet waves of silent noise, otherwise Loud silence moist more !!!
a week has passed and since then,
my love for you found refuge in my close friend's list -settled for knowing that you saw it, saw me, perhaps, even through me. -settled for knowing that you, are there for me. -settled, for knowing you.
romantic innuendo part 2//
and on my IG stories shall i send my indirect messages to you, for you. DIGEST THE SECRET CODE, lOVE. i, ******
On the second floor
of a department store At the DMV appointment window In the kissing booth on Coney Island Anywhere around her pineapple grove
Part 3 in the Brenda series.
There once was a lady,
(and there actually still is), who clandestinely preferred the growth about her garden gate. The talk in the village square these days was all about pruning the living daylights out of it, until it was a sad but smooth barren surface. Apparently visitors had weighed in and made this some kind of rule. Nonetheless, she liked how the twisting leaves and ivy created a picturesque latticework, a natural tapestry, evoking mystery and anticipation for what lay beneath. Oh, she trimmed her foliage here and there, keeping the overgrowth from running wild, but all things considered she was not about to change. Her garden was beautiful just the way it was.
She sneezes like she pleases
Suddenly Without warning And all over the place
When I die
I want to be cremated and have my ashes mixed with paint just so someone can s p r e a d me across a canvas.
Now paint me like one of your french girls
I'm doing it!
you're doing it!!! all the cool kids, are doing it!! and they are doing it!! and them too, doing it!! look, there his trying to do it?!! with very little success but let's all, give him, a hand for trying......!