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She was flawed, completely; but not in the way she though.

She was flawed in the way an artist ruins a white canvas with a beautifully colored sunset.

she was damaged, in the way the night sky is broken by the dawn
At times she had confidence and at times she felt as if she was a scrap of something used up
She is so pretty that it hurts,
the way she smiles and her fossettes,
will be the cause of my décès,
her hair hanging on her epaule,
are my favori like a rainfall,
her blue eyes with a haze ring,
confuse me for a second,
her breath on my chest,
Her hands in my hands.
Every time she passes my eyes
It's aches more than hundred times,
I want to die for her,
be the last to embrace her,
she is so pretty that it hurts!
Serendipity Sep 28
She was crisp in Autumn's wind.
Definite lines of beauty
set in stone,
on pavements filled
with leaves.

Her skin is cinnamon sprinkled,
and her oh just as punchy.

She was scented with spice,
her presence never a shadow
or mango-mangled mixture.
It was definite,
it was there.

She was there.
"So, we were having this conversation, and all of the sudden...well I couldn’t believe it...

"Oh, she went on and on about fields of daisies or something like that... She talked forever!

"Ok, ok...but first I have to build it up, so you know, you can appreciate the fullness of the moment.

"So we’re sitting there, having this conversation, and she just perks up...

"Yeah, she like...sat up in her seat, eyes bright as a light bulb, and she looks at me in this weird kinda way...

"I don’t know what way exactly, it was just weird. Like I was Brad Pitt or somebody like that.

"...Or someone like that, God! Are you gonna let me tell you or not?

"Anyway, she looks at me and just blurts it all out.  I mean she talked about it nonstop for an hour. I was thinking, Hell...we’re wasting time talking...

"No, I’m serious. It was an hour at least! After she finished I asked if she was serious.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure. Then she gets this ******* look and I thought she was going to slap me or something. It was like my asking her totally ruined the moment. It was a little freaky. I thought for sure she was just going to get up and leave like I blew my chance.

"Yeah, might have been better if she did. She just looked at me, not like earlier when she thought I was Brad Pitt though. Now she was just dumbfounded or something.

"You know like...she couldn’t believe I even had to ask after what she had just asked me.

"Yeah, you’re probably right, I am. But look I can’t know, after Jennifer and all, I can’t just leap out there without looking. I’ve got responsibilities to think about.

"Oh, whatever! I am not. It’s not wrong for guys to think about that.

"I don’t even know why I’m talking to you!

"Well...of course, I said yes, what do you think I’m a total *****? She’s way too pretty say no too."
I remember sitting in the living room as a kid. My mother insisted we get a wall-mounted rotary phone with "an extra-long cord" it stretched from kitchen to living room couch where I overheard many' a conversation about everything.
Enas Sep 22
She was that stranger..

A stranger to her eyes..

A stranger in her mind..

It hurt, it really hurt,

but with time she loved it.

She was a stranger..forever-changing.

Always born living and dying,

like a leaf on a breeze..

always on the flow..

swirling and dancing in a sundress.

Like the moon,

she will always fade and glow.

She will always rise and break,

silently like a wave on the water surface.

She will always be reborn, and transform..

like a black butterfly.

She is life and she is death..

She is a black butterfly.
Kevin Sep 18
Her hair gently falls onto her side like
        currents in a glistening stream
Brown like a burgundy haze

These beautiful emerald eyes
        that outshine the sun
Has my heart skip

The way she strides from side to side
                where her smile meets her cheeks
Brings upmost joy-

where once,
it was lost

I've finally found
the gorgeous complexion,
       that is her
sometimes being sad makes her happy

sometimes she finds beauty in sadness

sometimes she enjoys crying at night while it rains
she is us .. she is a poet ..
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