"attractiveness" poems
The complexity of something simple in appearance. the attractiveness of something true in its deepest form. Beauty.
-Bobbie Leigh
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 1:49 PM UTC
If I was thinner, this world would love me more;
But I eat too much dinner, and I'm a bore.
If I had more courage, I'd have more friends,
But that on my attractiveness depends.
If I was different, I'd appease society;
But this is me.
And honestly I'm at the point where
I'm not looking to please.
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 9:34 PM UTC
you can tell by the way she swings her hips
and pulls your hair
and licks her lips
and whispers in your ear
that she's easy.
you'll know her by the short skirt
and the tight top
and the high heels,
by the butterfly tattoo on her lower back
and the drink in her hand.
if she carries condoms
or takes birth control,
if she can't say no,
if she takes no convincing,
you'll know.
she's the girl at the party who drinks the most
and laughs the loudest.
she's the one you discarded the first night you met her,
when she gave you
the only part of herself that you deemed worthwhile.
you'll figure her out
from the tar trails of mascara,
the untouched meal,
the word "worthless" carved into her thigh like a brand,
marking her flesh as property
to which you are entitled.
pay close attention to her need for validation.
a **** will have the audacity to seek your approval
just because she's been told all her life
that she is nothing without your love.
she will measure her worth
in units of attractiveness
and desirability
because that is the only system she's ever been taught.
you'll know she's a **** when they find the defendant
not guilty,
and he arrives at the ten-year reunion in a limo.
you'll know she's a **** when she doesn't arrive
at all.
it's easy to spot a ****
in a society that teaches her that her lips are for kisses
and not battle cries,
that her hands are meant to be cradled in yours
and not ****** into the sky,
that her body is your wonderland
and not her home.
it's hard to miss a **** in a culture that paints women as ****** objects
while condemning any expression of female sexuality,
that glorifies the "good girl" who becomes whole
when the right man comes along
and stakes his claim.
the women you ****** in the lifetime before you met your wife
weren't marriage material;
you need a girl who's saved herself for you because
a girl who lets you **** her
crosses the threshold from ****** to ****
in a bizarre coming of age ritual in which your **** is *so ******* important*
that its temporary entrance to her body
renders her worthless.
you can tell she's a ****
because for her, there is no right answer.
you can find your **** at rallies
and in body-baring photographs,
alive in the anxious triumph
of finding something in herself that she can love,
of digging through a lifetime of rubble
and reclaiming small shards of forgiveness from the dirt.
her self-identified status
rips away your long-established privilege
of dictating who she can be
and defining her worth;
your resent her new autonomy.
you can march beside her,
or you can step aside.
she has stolen back her power.
she was made for revolution.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 6:09 AM UTC
A woman of shear beauty
Her attractiveness being at her duty
She gets any man she wants
Annabelle knows how to taunt
It is the way she walks and talks
Men feel her senses and respond in stalk
Annabelle dresses in expensive long gowns
Her hips are firm and are round
At parties, woman look Annabelle up and down
Yet they never utter any sound
It’s the way men grapple at Annabelle’s feet
Once they see Annabelle men don’t retreat
Annabelle moves every so carefully in her stance
Her good looks and attractiveness with every staring chance
This is how Annabelle’s suggestions advance
Annabelle’s methods in all systems go
Her hips in suggesting just follow my flow
Annabelle’s statement, “Hold on to your man”
I am in control and it’s within my own command
My masterpiece is what you see
It is Annabelle’s canvas that says she.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 8:45 AM UTC
The kite gets high, stays aloft-
quite some time displaying
enviable dexterity, for fun
do spectacular somersaults as much times
as it could, climbs up in air with a loud swoosh
then look! how the wind gets *****
with her, if she has something
of a skirt, it goes up, up to an
indecent height, she doesn't have
that balance a player at such
heights should have kept always.
Its absurd, all these acrobatics silly kite
displays before the world at high altitudes
with a unholy interest
to show herself more accomplished
than what she really is, could you
pardon that frivolity, because she
has many more colors than clouds.
He admits abashedly that he too was
once in love with her frivolous attractiveness,
but he never could understand a kite;
in spite of the lightness, that makes
it easier to travel heights, has kite a significance?
After all what is a kite? her merit?
a strange arrangement that defies
common sense, all it can do is aimless flying.
Isn't it a charge serious enough?
even a dry leaf, or a falling feather
can do these acrobatics for a while.
What is the meaning of a kite,
kindly someone notify , if it has any,
meaningless flying is not for anything
of substance, what kind of play
is it, if it is perceived as one, by any one
why the folly of someone take us
for a ride all these years, without
a second thought, he wonders
who might have promoted it, had some
ulterior motive, some point to prove;
wind, mightiest of forces is made to look weak
in everyday life .
He would suspect, in the bargain many
generations too spent their time
in this vein pursuit without any thought.
Any kite display a greed to go up and
stay there, till the time it is possible to float
don't want to be back, when wind is on her side
unless force is applied, what does it signify?
Kite has a hunger to touch wonder with its fingers
he knows, and he can't but appreciate it
and when the occasion arises she fly up to the cloud,
play with him as if he is her secret lover, that hurts
could such a liaisons are to be be tolerated
she knows how a cloud tastes at different times
Yes, sky certainly intoxicates her,
she want to move closer, doesn't it spell danger?
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
A phrase that people treat
like a joke, and that people
have failed to recognize the
significance of.
Black is beautiful.
Brown is beautiful.
Over breakfast foods I tried to
discuss how saying,
"I prefer white people/
I find white people attractive"
is subtle racism.
It was a difficult dialogue that
left me sick and empty.
The feeling of being more radical
than everyone around you.
Meeting a black girl who wants to be white,
hearing from all your friends,
"I just prefer white people",
I see, I see a dominant ideology that
places whiteness above everything else,
especially blackness. It is also a lie.
It is definitely racist.
It says that despite all other qualities a person may have,
their skin color holds them back in your eyes.
Instead I am told my ideas exist in a "box".
The reality of what I say is intensely real to me.
If you can't see the racism in yourself,
I'm not holding you to a quality where
you can point it out in others.
If you can openly pinpoint attractiveness to skin color
and just try to cop it out as "preference"
I am going to call you racist.
Black is beautiful.
Brown is beautiful.
You are not "naturally" attracted to white people.
In that phrase, you tell me it is unnatural for you
to be attracted to black people, or any person of color.
It is not natural. You have adopted the dominant ideology.
It is a subtle and now inherent racism.
I am tired of feeling sick because I'm the radical,
however it is a feeling I understand I will never escape.
It will follow me my entire life, I hope.
I'm sick of feeling marginalized because I recognize
sexism exists, and racism exists, and subtlety does not
******* hide it from me, I'm sick sick sick sick sick of it.
**** it though, I'd rather be sick my entire life,
and see the racism in me and others
than not see it, and just passively swallow that ideology.
I'll carry that weight in my guts,
not because I'm a martyr, because I ******* hate everyone;
because I love myself just that much.
I don't deserve to be that person anymore.
Black is beautiful.
Brown is beautiful.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
I died before I met you
Only once prior
I recovered, got better, and made it through
Try to believe me, I know I’m a liar,
But I died once before I met you
I died the day I met you
Because my heart stopped beating
Your attractiveness too true
I was afraid to mumble a greeting
But I already died for you
I died the day after I met you
You wouldn’t get out of my mind
I got distracted – couldn’t make do
For someone like me, you were too kind
I died because I withdrew
I died a month later without you
I couldn’t even fight it
The fear stuck to me like glue
I started breaking bit by bit
I died when I wasn’t supposed to
I died a season later when you
Saw I was too broken to be fixed
I had a strong sense of déjà vu
But I was nevertheless transfixed
My death meant nothing to you
I died before I was friends with you
Your change of mind bemused me
Because you never used to
Listen to my sorry plea
I died when the world was no longer blue
I died two more times all because of you
You made me laugh, you made me cry
Until my world was back to blue
You clipped my wings so I couldn’t fly
My deaths were caused by you
I died a last time because of you
After we were long done
I saw you with another and trouble began to brew
While that’s all I ever was
I died because I wasn’t enough for you
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 12:07 AM UTC
I can’t believe you could be so extremely unfaithful to me
You’re almost my brother
Is my wife up for grabs on the side
Something I never told you buddy oh pal
Once when I was working with your wife (My sister in law) she questioned me about her attractiveness and how **** I Rated her to be
I knew right then your beautiful wife wanted a kiss from me
I’ve watched her for so long, after all she is my sister-in-law. Yet I’ve seen her clear,
And because of you I kept my distance
A gentle man
Gives no resistance
If you do have my wife
I assure you
Your beautiful wife is mine!
You can have her back later
And one of my future rhymes.
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
I don't know how to write of love,
It's unfamiliar territory,
Like a hand in an oversized glove,
Or a moral with no story.
If I could write about the way
I put all faith in you,
And how you returned that faith to me,
That alone wouldn't do.
I could write about attractiveness-
Of skin as smooth as milk,
Of eyes that heal my sadness,
And a touch as light as silk.
That still doesn't quite do it though,
It doesn't seem enough,
To quote the cannibilistic king-
"This subject is quite tough!"
I could write about the words we share,
When we're together and alone,
Or of holding hands in public,
Or crying on the phone,
Or how we long to hold each other,
Or hear the other's voice,
How just being with each other
Feels like the only choice.
Yes, I could talk all day about the way
Your feelings make me feel
But as fishing-rod designers say;
"It's time to make this reel."
Because real love's not as romantic
As the the love seen on T.V,
Or how it looks in certain books,
And classical poetry.
There's arguements at midnight,
There's anger and despair,
And times when you may feel like
The other doesn't care.
There are times you feel you're talking
And the other doesn't hear,
There's feeling you're not good enough,
Caused by jealousy and fear.
It's giving the other power
To destroy your hopes and dreams,
To tear your heart completely
And sometimes that's how it seems.
No- I don't know how to write of love,
Because the realism shows through,
To quote the cannibal king once more-
"This subject's hard to chew."
So I will not bore you anymore
On things I can't convey
And feelings which I am not sure
You're feeling anyway,
But I'll leave you with some sound advice-
Being in love can be the best,
Or else it turns your heart to ice
(To which many can attest.)
I won't recommend you plunge right in,
Or back off altogether,
But it will not stay as it begins-
Love changes like the weather.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
~
Rigel
*Art thou
Thy soul
Of souls
Reaching
O to thee?
Or that
Celestial
Tide thus
Brimming
So, most
Delightful
Beams o'er
Me?*
~
Sirius
*O, Yes!
My Bride-to-be,
Spinning fiercely
Like a dervish in
This galaxy!*
~
Rigel
*My flames! My core!
Held together by my
Own attractiveness, I
Assure, I need not thee
Tis myself I do adore!
Fantastic mysteries
I keep thus pure!
Woo me to Love?
You seem assured
Of your Self as well!
But you must make
Haste to hence take
This, my body, O!
Heretofore to meld.*
~
Sirius
*My lust forsaken
Broken, taken!
See how hot
These fires
Thus burn,
All my Love
To you I turn!*
~
Rigel
*Be gone!
Be gone!
My Love
Must be earned.*
~
Sirius
*O what woe!
Woebegone
And melancholy!
Ease my malady,
Be my Lady!*
~
Rigel
*Perhaps one day
I shall, but as of
Now, I turn
Thee away.*
~
Sirius
*I shall do
My utmost
To burn
So close
Today
Tomorrow
So perhaps
Someday
It will be so.*
~
Rigel silently
*Sigh, you
Persistent thing;
I wish to cradle
You, soon too.*
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 4:31 PM UTC
Staring at a reflection
Watching for clues
Waiting for signals
But I'm never allowed to lose
Weight
Fat
No flat stomach left
And thin hairs mar
The one you're left with
Your body protrudes underneath your
Bra-line and
It makes you want to cry
Your butts still good
But you fearfully watch the
Jiggle of your thigh
Your body is all you've ever had
Your teeth are yellow and
Your hair loves to be bad
your nose is chipped and angled
Your skin mangled with spots and
Scars
Marred
Imperfect
Only the mirror makes you smile
But photos lack the style of
'Attractiveness'
You feel you can only look like you
In person
But now you have to search for the good
You know they would have you do that.
Okay, I like the practicality of my body.
Where I have stood, there has stood
Health, a wealth of love in
Laughter lines
I love the lines of my muscles
Count my contours,
Feel I'm fine when I breath in my
Cheekbones, hate the stress filled
Frown lines
Never forget the time I
Looked and found myself
Too thin
Too tired
Too wired up
To find myself
Too injured.
Never regret
And never forget
The point I realised
At least imperfect
Allows for 'happy'
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
“Opposites attract”
Now there is a cute term that
Was first deemed by someone who
Was not apposed to attractiveness, but
Was also the opposite of it.
Cute, aint it?
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 7:47 PM UTC
i'm not really sure
if i gauge attractiveness
on a real scale
but there's most definitely
a certain quality
that seeps into my
pores and in my marrow
and through my veins
that attracts me
cause his eyes are like
old books from the deepest
sections of the library
and his eyelashes
are like feather
dusters tickling
my heart in a delightful
fashion and his freckles are
reminiscent of drops
of stray ink dripping
from thunder clouds
it's an odd sensation
sensational
that's all i can use to
describe this
imploration of
my mind
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 11:02 PM UTC
some of us walk insistently,
instinctively, and instantly to
and upon the edged path,
this physical nexus & abstract mental locus,
a cliffside enticing rock strewn trail,
drawn of men, by men, for men
(yes, men are people too, still)
enthralling views,
down to the riverside,
where eyes intuit the
beauteous aroma of
precious precocious
precarious precipices
and the near-stench of
mortality
amidst
wafting scents of inane undesirable need,
hints of destruction, or,
alternating eager relief,
like a ****** infused, instant attractiveness,
making weakness in the knees, all too real,
trembling with a delicious accented edge of
a fresh, familiar scent, fresh baked bread,
an all enveloping consumption need now!
to
crave what we fear,
to fear what we crave
our cravings are craven,
this twisted sense, annuls
our common sensibility, yet,
titillates our pleasured imagined relief,
releases, our unsated, even better,
our insatiable curiosity to tremble,
an entire body enjoined by vibrato~
enticing tremulations, shaken and stirred,
this danger choice releases something primordial,
escape? a reckless wrecking so deeply designed,
it has its very own designation…death wish
multitudes of easy choices afforded my senses,
and by accident, all mine chosen, all nearby,
I travel the esplanade près de the East River,
where even if calm is the sole visiblilty,
undercurrents and the unpredictable passage
of container wakes and the larger freighters
will hand you down, so easy, to become parcel
to a littered river bottom of centuries’ artifacts
but even more tempting, the balcony,
a hop, skip and a jump unlocked,
mere ten steps, no need for a running start
why it’s the “height of convenience,”
he ruefully winces, and not even any
TSA lines or inconveniencing “conveniences”
Why this calamity seems so desperately desirable,
Why this unabrogated feat so featured, nay, even
feted in our hot? cold? bloodstream
“Why just men?
*I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know.*”
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 5:42 PM UTC
Look in the mirror. What do you see?
Unconventional beauty, isn't that right?
Everybody sees differently
But imperfection is not an ugly sight.
You look at yourself and wish that you were blind
Counting the flaws and things you could change
You're listening to the voices in your mind
Telling you that you look silly or strange
You wish you were someone people consider beautiful
But looks only go skin deep.
If you want true beauty, look into the soul
That's where things are so trivial and cheap.
Inside yourself is where the true glamour lies
Stirring, growing, inviting them in
Shining out through your eyes
Windows to a heart that's spread so paper thin
Wanting to fix, yearning to please
Make everyone happy and smile
She hides it well and succeeds with ease
But dark thoughts have been there for a while.
I'm not good enough
No one will ever love me
Anyone calls you pretty, call their bluff
They need glasses if they can't see
Exactly what you do when you look in that mirror
The moles, the rolls, the unwanted hair
All the imperfections couldn't be clearer
And you wish that you weren't there...
But you were made this way
Vision is not what people are all about
The beauty within is what you display
And that will make you gorgeous inside and out
Imperfection is not any ugly sight
And ignorance is not blissful.
Broadcast your heart, let it take flight
Never let anyone make you feel unbeautiful
It's only skin deep
And it all fades with time
Youth and grace you cannot keep
Death is a surely sign
Of how beautiful you were by all the people around
Who stand by your side
Even after you're in the ground
People need a lesson, some sort of guide
Attractiveness is in the eyes of the beholder
And once you learn you can't please everyone
Your feelings and thoughts won't smolder
Your judgement and make you want to run
Away from happiness and love
And from believing
That you aren't good enough
Because everyone is someone worth seeing.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:14 AM UTC
“Ding!” my phone screen lit up.
A few seconds later… “Ding!”
Instagram notifications of the newest posts from my peers pop up incessantly.
It has become ubiquitous to see other teenage girls posting “glamorous” pictures of themselves online,
Dolling up with makeup, accessories, and fancy clothes revealing their bodyline
“Wow you look so pretty”, such comments are seen under these posts frequently,
I can’t help but sometimes wonder: Is it worth seeking this validation that they receive?
Some peers wish to pursue popularity from their physical appearances,
I admire their confidence but to me, this is quite foreign
In a constellation of stars, each star tries its best to stand out among the crowd,
Similarly, most people want their physical attractiveness to be eulogized out loud
“Am I weird for not following such trends?” is something I occasionally ponder about,
I tell myself to take a step back and reflect- should I be doing this just for clout?
Why am I so different from the rest- being pococurante about such “popularity”?
Is not seeking validation and recognition from others about our worth an aberrancy?
Personally, I just hope that people will see the true, realest me;
I am confident in my own skin and appearance- I don’t need others’ validation and decree
I am learning to not compel myself to fit into and follow what is “trendy”,
But instead, work towards being me and who God wants me to be
21/11/2021
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 1:29 PM UTC
For whom do you sacrifice
my child
slave over sweat
is this for yourself
you are excited by attraction
and attractiveness
find time for little but
introverted social butterfly
tell me
sweet daughter
what have you done for me
each night you ask
protection from fear
healthiness
then thank for the generic
do you think about it often
how little you feel you need me
how often do you visit
a dying man
then you insist upon apologetic mannerisms
send your tears
worship rosaries on your death bed
to you I am but a figurine
to match your decor
do something noble perhaps
with your false sense
of kindness to all
you know of truth
and are belittled when it’s said
I know I am in your head
when his is three times more strong
your commitment is noble
this you have not lied
but you sinner
come home
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 11:19 PM UTC
she gave me a ******* on the beach
so we got back together
nothing changed…bullshit always comes out
It’s taken some months
but I'm am reptilian again
not traditional
,but,
there are no traditional humans.
advertisers want you to think there is an average,
you are different,
that is how they make their money,
so I sit and stare into black and smile,
and think how I have been fooled
I smile wide
wider than I think possible
the webbing of my mouth cracks
I am comfortable in darkness
because
it is the only place I can truly meditate and grow
maybe one day this will change, right now it is true
I have figured the key to attractiveness; unapologetically go after what you want, period.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
By Arcassin B & wolfspirit
AB: Attractiveness will not flourish,
Body to body in the dark,
When your alone and you feel like
Nothings ever got your back,
Against the wall might get a scratch,
That pierced your soul and also
Doesn't call back,
Or leaves a text when you get home,
What is my final react,
Of being let down again,
In the night ,
Blowing winds,
I was curious to know how long you've
Known me since then,
The Waking,
I'm howling at the moon,
Like can you not hear me breathing!?
There are no further temptations to
Uncover your whole meaning,
Catching weird people getting in our heads,
Crowds watching us,
WSQF: the sweetest imaginings and the blissful calm
that this union brings..are we not one?
has life made fantasy come undone....
i wonder which one is you, is me, is one....
touching you is touching me, touching together
we are truly free....exploring, spelunking, delving
realms of pain and pleasure,
am i the adventurer, you, my treasure?
shut out the din of the madding crowd
exploring this message, to sing it out loud
so , we are connected, light or dark
one love, two bodies, one fatal spark
wide awake are we, while dreaming possibility
and the art of the probable...impossible is not worthy
let reign on high, imagination
you found my soul, i found my station
let's sleep on it, linger on the dreaming
as long as what we feel keeps streaming
i'm not asleep
i'm living you,
AB: We'd feel homegrown instead,
The smartest teens today,
We wouldn't end up dead,
To feel the lifting force,
Exploring others bodies,
Without cold sweats and unnecessary hobbies,
You don't hear me,
I was walking in the darkness with an open
Wound,
I'm waking up,
I just imagined you.
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 3:09 PM UTC
I want to experience something beautiful. I want to be something Beautiful. But beauty doesn’t just happen. It is earned,it is toiled for.
It is what all decent people want. People are too concerned on what they look like. If they are too skinny or too fat or smell too like old french fries. No one is really beautiful at first glance. Pure attractiveness does not equal beauty. To me beauty is something deeper. Something much deeper. When one person truly knows someone else that is beautiful. when one person can just be with another and just be satisfied. Just honestly happy by the mere presence of the other. That is beautiful.
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 1:09 PM UTC
not only is beauty supposedly
in the eye of the beholder, it
also reportedly emerges from
an intangible depth within
okay, then, so that means ugliness
comes similarly from within,
or doesn't it, baby?
so then, ugliness must begin and end
in the pit of your stomach, and in
the words that pass the tongue
on the exit from your ugly mouth
so then, ugliness must begin and end
in the nerves buried in sleeves, and in
the actions that slip the heart
sneaking past the brain, and vice versa.
on the grab from your dead hands.
on the grab from your dead hands.
not only does it tend to work
unlike the excitable pretend it works,
the implication is, that half of your
worthiness is linked to the mercy
of the mass effect.
as for a thought, a dream,
an intent, an outcome,
a vision, a nightmare,
a hermit knows the good folk
permit attractiveness to good lines.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 10:27 AM UTC
She Just Always Wore Such Artificial Makeup,
Also Just Touching Up Her Previous Pictures,
Lightening Her Complexion Even If I Object,
So Much I Love Her Original Indian Colour,
Lusting After A Fair Colored Skin She Was,
And What's My Loss In Her Transiting Youth,
Is Just My Bickering According To The Angel.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 7:26 AM UTC
__Chapter 1: Evening__
Your attire is a thin veil; underneath the silk
is a reach within my arms, to grace a warm touch
passion's burning flame, that can make snowflakes
melt away so fast
Romance, over all parts of your attractiveness
tall, shapely, and sturdy— as my presence is in
the presence of a jungle, for an Amazon queen
Once warmed, from head to toes, fingertips,
to lips galore; quiet conversations that eyes speak
of love so deep and fulfilling
Eager breaths thrown back in my face, also, the love
I keep safe, so carefully, cautiously; secretly locked
away in a heart cuddle you warm, wrap you as a blanket
that provides the body’s heat
__Chapter 2: Morning__
How would you shepherd a tongue into speaking
the heart’s deepest secrets— at early morn underneath
the rainy skies; I will wake you. As the clouds grow
heavy, and heavier; the slightest sunlight parts them
open, as perfect affections open you wide.
Sprung out perfectly; an inviting posture, there
where you reside— kisses that fall like the rain
Downward falling; your love a juicy fruit, that will
eventually fall- ripen my eyes to feast on your desires
As we’re both lost in the warming memories of this
blanket’s sun
__Chapter 3: Afternoon__
I think about the rain that fell on your hair,
those tiny bouncing raindrops on your coat-
Coating the memory in such a raging joy;
as the gaze of noon, painted your honest form
A man formulating his words to a first meet;
hoping it may not be short lived
A tongue ensnared by its own words, trying to
savour the novelty of my excitement, all the
pleasures and first feeling— that sensual honey
of our first moment, alone together
The eve is looming over our eyes, for this day
do not chase it, as I’ll catch you by your skin
Gain that glance of a climactic prelude into
another restful resolution of a long night
As the stars are dressed with light; and I sit
with these thoughts on my mind, of how you’ll
choose to dress yourself tonight…
Aug 22, 2024
Aug 22, 2024 at 1:49 PM UTC
A necklace lies upon her breast
A deck of cards in her hands
Creating a perfect illusion of attractiveness
In the eyes of another man
She creates doubts in those with confidence
An image of desire
Held only for a night
Once given and received
Her presence is no longer needed
Worth nothing but dust
She holds a new deck
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC