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#allium
Adoring you is uncomplicated. The way in which, refreshment comes with your ravishment is treasured spectacle, and though your fans are many, this one broods. Pining for glimpses into your tortured terrine, stories of unplumbed eternity, depths of you, titillate. How more curious you become as onion peels, layers on layers. A sweet onion I might add. Yet still, one that brings tears. Tears, joyous tears, cliche of cliche, reconcile charm with burden of unknowing how an allium could come into a world, stinking, but make gourmet a dish.
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Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 7:14 PM UTC
Dish
If I could be the perfect me I’d be a perfect poet. My hair would be long and blue And I wouldn’t need anyone. Not even you. I’d be a little too skinny With long, lanky legs. And freckles. Oh, the freckles i’d have If I was a perfect me. My eyes would resemble spring Clean cut grass. Eye lashes like the stem of an Allium And shoulders like a mountain; cut and pale. I wouldn’t have you in my veins And nothing would mean anything. I wouldn’t need your permission to breathe Or to just be me. (r.e.)
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
If I Was A Perfect Me