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I would much rather be studying
where you move your hands
and how you will kiss me next.
It's hard to concentrate on the different conjugations
of the verb querer,
when all I really want is your couch
with the torn up leather
and the small tables
and drizzle on the windows.
So come save me from the textbooks,
crawl into my body and unwrap my soul
until I can remember what your name tastes like.
Sorry, ******* is not my type.
This one was featured in my school's literary magazine. Wow. I submitted it as a joke, along with about 10 others... I can't believe this is one of the two they picked from me.
Just as the stars lay sparkling in her eyes
so does the night's beauty shine
in her smile.
the moon's light dances in her hair and clings
to her like a perfume of
beauty;
radiance bathes her.

Grace falls on her
as she moves, caressing
my eyes with pure, elegant, perfection.
How can she be compared to anything?

Her legs,
waist, forming the perfect
curves
as they slide into her hips,
and what lies
between
such womanly accents.

oh, how I long to be there,
where she is.
how I long for her
secrets
and long to reveal mine to her in
full.

Nothing hidden,
nothing kept
away.

she does steal my heart with
glance from such
light, twinkling eyes
as they silently say,
"Come and get me"
they
lure
and I
want.

Oh how I long to be there,
where she is;
to share all our secrets
and to
be
one.
To whom do I owe
the pleasure of meeting you?

you, the one who has touched this raw,
broken heart
and tended the wounds left by the
wrongs of the past.

you've stitched
my compassion, my love light, my
heart
into itself, anew with light of
companionship.

every memory is a drop in the pool of life.
you, however, are a river,
always moving, changing...
flooding with good feelings.

so to whom do I humbly owe
the pleasure of having met you,
drawn you closer into my heart,
opened up to your healing passion?
for all those hurt, and healed by those close to them, the old and the new.
Cracked in several different pieces lies
a mask bound by the school of flesh
A clever tool used to blur the lines
Between a saint and filthy wretch

Archaic would be the best word to describe
The spring snow I ought to see
And yet there's still something beautiful about suicide
I think Mishima would agree

But these metaphors are every bit as absurd
As the films you made me watch
Silent whispers never heard
And yet again I ruin the plot

In the mood for love
Yes, that's all you've ever been
Like the sudden slap of a glove
A life once hidden now is seen

Somewhere there is a man I used to know
Better yet revere
Blood stains red springs gentle snow
Giving way to flowery years

There is death before dishonour
If not of the body then of the mind
As summer winds blow warmer
So do memories fade in time
A gentleman once asked,-
'Why sail the infinite sea?

So torrential and torrid;
too much for me...

Encompassed by water;
no place to flea.

Incalculable harbors;
she hears no plea!'



I raised my face against the sun,
hearing him, but seeing none

Just to be, sir, just to be.
as i get closer to you, i understand you more
you make me smile a bit more everyday
you start to learn the song of my heart
as i learn the song of your heart
our laughter today is louder than yesterday's
our distance is closer than yesterday's
today we spend more time than yesterday's
life become beautiful everyday because of your presents
it takes forever or life time to find a friend like you
but it took me better than a minute to find you
i wonder if our friendship is valuable to you as it is to me
I'm bent, not broken,
Hear the words that are spoken.
There is this pain I go threw,
If only someone knew.
From my back to my hips,
I feel like i  may trip.
Some one catch me...
One..Two..Three..
I'm gone ..I'm gone
Now you'll move on..
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