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"dimple" poems
How can you miss someone's voice you have never heard and how can you visualize someone'es eyes you have never seen? These are questions that alter the reality of someone's being. Even though I have never met you and have no knowledge of your existence, I know you are out there. someday I will find my King. I know that your lips are softer than rose petals and the Melanin in your skin fills women with desire. But as I lay in these silk sheets and relish in fantasies I know that nothing between You and another woman  will ever transpire, Because You're Mine. The dimple within your right cheek and the mischief in your eyes are all significant marks that you are no else's but Mine. The sway of your walk and the charm when you talk are characteristics held for a woman who goes by My Name. Our connection is nothing short of beautiful and  the intensity of our relations make any other love seem inhumane. I know this, even though to everyone else you still cease to exist. I know our hands will lock together like the missing pieces completing a puzzle. Making me Your's, but more precisely making you Mine.
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Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
Mine
I neglect my friends To what ends? I get lost in desire Seeking pu... I'm ashamed to say it That I seek woman for sexuality I claim to be so clear So understanding But I let desire rob me of my freedom I seek physical beauty plain and simple I once followed a girl on Twitter named Dimple Because she had a pretty picture What kind of sick man am I That I claim spiritual guidance And rob my knowledge by inviting Torrents of ignorance. No more. Desire is my tool Not my master No longer ***** is what I'm after Rather beauty True beauty not plastered Nor smeared, nor cheaply perfumed True beauty of mine Not a girl's physique But mine, and all that I keep All that I save, while I wait for her I will give it to you, and to him And to all the children who sing Nothing of me is off-limits now I give to the world what I am
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 6:54 AM UTC
My Heart Swells
I want to know what this is. Explore each dimple on your face and each sentence that you speak. I want to know what makes you tick and what lightens your world. I want to be everything you want and everything you have been looking for so I can know you out and flip you inside-out. Let me wonder your world and become part of it. If you take a chance on me... maybe I can love you.
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
Chance
What? well don't be shocked, it's genetic coded, drilling for dimples my parents did it to me, down the food chain, for a millennium, Baby Boomers, Millennials, Gen X, Gen Y, Gen Z it will be done forever, auto-naturally place the pointer finger gently upon each cheek, commence so soft digging, twisting for the oil of human smiles, the reward, astonishing! a shocking discovery made this morn! *you can do it too "going up the stairs," to Grandmas, Nana's, if you catch them, and with extra care spent, soft so soft when they are just waking up, when their inner kid is sleepy showing* drill a dimple, drill, baby, drill, if your baby/is six or sixty, at any age, kissing an unexpected smile, most worthwhile!
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Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
Drill, Baby, Drill! (Dimples)
Like an onion, I had layers. And you peeled me away, one at a time. One layer off. You saw my favorites. The food and drinks I crave for. The wall paint I wanted for my room. The perky dresses, nail polish, knee-high boots. And the spot I always prefer to be- on the front seat. One layer off. You saw my hobbies. The words I stitched together. The stars that formed our zodiac sign. The wallclimbing, badminton, volleyball. And the guitar strings that strum our lullaby. One layer off. You saw my dreams. The plane ticket to Paris. The thrill of a bungee jump. The candlelit dinner, fireworks, dancing fountain. And the license as a medical physician. One layer off. You saw my strengths. The smile behind the false judgements. The tears I fought back with pride. The temperance, confidence, adjustments. And the self-love I have strongly magnified. One layer off. You saw my insecurities. The missing dimple on my left cheek. The pimples on my forehead. The bitchface, fierce stare, strict walk. And this prominently thin-but-tall body figure. One layer off. You saw my regrets. The kisses I could have refused. The friends I thought were true. The false assumptions, unmet expectations. And the trust I gave to the wrong person. One layer off. You saw my secrets. The punches I had to take. The bruises I covered with my sleeves. The lies, frustrations, disappointments. And the brokenness suppressed in my memory. The last layer, off. You saw through me. The anxiousness escalating slowly. The exposure feeling uneasy. I felt stripped, explored, unguarded. And in my nakedness - you had to choose: To love or to leave me, For who I really am.
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 2:49 AM UTC
Peeling Layers
Like an onion, I had layers. And you peeled me away, one at a time. One layer off. You saw my favorites. The food and drinks I crave for. The wall paint I wanted for my room. The perky dresses, nail polish, knee-high boots. And the spot I always prefer to be- on the front seat. One layer off. You saw my hobbies. The words I stitched together. The stars that formed our zodiac sign. The wallclimbing, badminton, volleyball. And the guitar strings that strum our lullaby. One layer off. You saw my dreams. The plane ticket to Paris. The thrill of a bungee jump. The candlelit dinner, fireworks, dancing fountain. And the license as a medical physician. One layer off. You saw my strengths. The smile behind the false judgements. The tears I fought back with pride. The temperance, confidence, adjustments. And the self-love I have strongly magnified. One layer off. You saw my insecurities. The missing dimple on my left cheek. The pimples on my forehead. The bitchface, fierce stare, strict walk. And this prominently thin-but-tall body figure. One layer off. You saw my regrets. The kisses I could have refused. The friends I thought were true. The false assumptions, unmet expectations. And the trust I gave to the wrong person. One layer off. You saw my secrets. The punches I had to take. The bruises I covered with my sleeves. The lies, frustrations, disappointments. And the brokenness suppressed in my memory. The last layer, off. You saw through me. The anxiousness escalating slowly. The exposure feeling uneasy. I felt stripped, explored, unguarded. And in my nakedness - you had to choose: To love or to leave me, For who I really am.
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52
You changed me Although you’re not here now I’m disappointed you can’t see who I’ve become I started growing the first time you hugged me The force of your arms Wrapped like a ribbon Around a birthday present that is my body You controlled everything With that universal remote on your wrist I’m surprised my emotions wouldn’t flicker Each time you pressed a button You had so many faces Often times I felt as if I was looking in a mirror Not to say I love my own reflection But those who know me well will say “I look like my personality” You know, Headphones nowadays are two ear buds It’s not meant to go in both ears Both rather so you can have Someone to share your music with Some songs are harder to listen to than others But I’m getting better Do you keep my heart in your fanny-pack? Unzip it like a pulse Keep it next to other unimportant things Cell phone, money, gum I can’t walk gravel roads like I used to Or see lightning bugs the same again I know it’s not right to do But when I’m with a girl I compare her with you Needless to say they never size up So here I am single, which is funny to me People give me compliments like you used to My dimple, the smile and how I act Living with laughter on a mountain You were the echo That made me think Someone else was trying to talk back Now that it’s gone I’m talking to myself I’d take a rocket to the moon with you If you fell, I too would faint And now, Every time I smoke Upwards Into the night sky I am surrounded By a billion ***** of light And they scream your middle name
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 1:29 AM UTC
Nerdy Starr Girl
You changed me Although you’re not here now I’m disappointed you can’t see who I’ve become I started growing the first time you hugged me The force of your arms Wrapped like a ribbon Around a birthday present that is my body You controlled everything With that universal remote on your wrist I’m surprised my emotions wouldn’t flicker Each time you pressed a button You had so many faces Often times I felt as if I was looking in a mirror Not to say I love my own reflection But those who know me well will say “I look like my personality” You know, Headphones nowadays are two ear buds It’s not meant to go in both ears Both rather so you can have Someone to share your music with Some songs are harder to listen to than others But I’m getting better Do you keep my heart in your fanny-pack? Unzip it like a pulse Keep it next to other unimportant things Cell phone, money, gum I can’t walk gravel roads like I used to Or see lightning bugs the same again I know it’s not right to do But when I’m with a girl I compare her with you Needless to say they never size up So here I am single, which is funny to me People give me compliments like you used to My dimple, the smile and how I act Living with laughter on a mountain You were the echo That made me think Someone else was trying to talk back Now that it’s gone I’m talking to myself I’d take a rocket to the moon with you If you fell, I too would faint And now, Every time I smoke Upwards Into the night sky I am surrounded By a billion ***** of light And they scream your middle name
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52
The sun bakes down heavily on a plastic micro planet in Orlando, Florida where crowded trams drop American bushels of tourists into an alien world. Quickly fantasy comes alive through a corporation of disguise. The workers mask themselves in a drapery of familiar life -like costumes to charm little children’s hearts. They smile wildly, carving a clear dimple line on the but of their cheeks. Walt’s Disney World must have driven every one of America’s circuses out of business. The flying trapeze is too elegant, people now want to be strapped in, buckled up and whipped around to forcibly experience the true velocity of entertainment. Even the participant’s attire is geared for this third world oblivion. Neon ***** packs rest like bloated kangaroo pouches on fat sweaty old lady’s round hips, their plump fingers holding on to leashed harnesses reined to their child’s small chest. This is vacation, strangers of people in massive conglomerations with confused expressions and burnt faces. Even the food seems wickedly unnatural, like an artificial order of burning plastic and sour dough surprise. Waiting is the enthusiast’s pastime as parades of anxious voyeurs are captivated by a trance fixation of lights and whistles. They line up like schools of lemming, plunging on rides, one by one. This is the place Where memories are made And dreams come true
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Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 12:25 PM UTC
Walt Disney World, Orlando Florida
You are the thought that starts each morning, The conclusion to each day. I think of you with all I do, And everything I say. You are the smile on my face, The twinkle in my eye. The warmth inside my heart, The fullness in my life. The only hand that is part of mine, The coat upon my back. My friend and love you have my soul, I never will turn back. You are the dimple in my cheek, The tingle in my soul. The voice that makes me weak, You're the one that makes me whole. You are all that I have ever wanted, and all that I will need. You are all that I think of, You mean so much to me.
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Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 8:14 PM UTC
You Mean So Much To Me
These 4 years drove your memories away, but i never knew you'll make me write someday. "Love at first sight" exists,i knew then, I reminisce,12th April at dehradun railway station. I hopped down the train, whining children,seperating lovers loving families,pleading beggars i saw, Searching for coolie,my eyes glued on a boy,leaning on a pole, An absolute treat to eyes casted a spell on heart of metal. shapely body,white skinned, curly hair,lips like petal. Yellow t-shirt on the skin of gold, dimple-dipped chuckles,widened his charm fourfold. unsure,if it's just my eyes or it was him who resembled the Greek Gods. Talking over the phone,he burst into laughter His playful,lively voice husky deep baritone, bringing my dead senses alive. Mindlessly,I pictured us,together laughing profusely on a riverside. He raised his hands for adjusting his hair. I felt his fingers brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. The morbid roar of trains , turned into the symphony of my heart. abruptly, breaking my spell called a girl from behind, long haired,beautiful,leapt at him, no sooner he grabbed her tight in his embrace. Mad Lovers,my heart soliloquised. and here came all my wishful thinking to an end. I turned and walked away a little heartbroken before i could win him,he was taken . You gave me nothing but trust me for those minutes i wanted to be your everything I scrumpulously stole those seconds from your life which still make me skip a beat. I'll think about you again after a  few days, for now,enough of nostalgia. and which ***** said, Love at first sight saves time?
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
That somebody.
These 4 years drove your memories away, but i never knew you'll make me write someday. "Love at first sight" exists,i knew then, I reminisce,12th April at dehradun railway station. I hopped down the train, whining children,seperating lovers loving families,pleading beggars i saw, Searching for coolie,my eyes glued on a boy,leaning on a pole, An absolute treat to eyes casted a spell on heart of metal. shapely body,white skinned, curly hair,lips like petal. Yellow t-shirt on the skin of gold, dimple-dipped chuckles,widened his charm fourfold. unsure,if it's just my eyes or it was him who resembled the Greek Gods. Talking over the phone,he burst into laughter His playful,lively voice husky deep baritone, bringing my dead senses alive. Mindlessly,I pictured us,together laughing profusely on a riverside. He raised his hands for adjusting his hair. I felt his fingers brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. The morbid roar of trains , turned into the symphony of my heart. abruptly, breaking my spell called a girl from behind, long haired,beautiful,leapt at him, no sooner he grabbed her tight in his embrace. Mad Lovers,my heart soliloquised. and here came all my wishful thinking to an end. I turned and walked away a little heartbroken before i could win him,he was taken . You gave me nothing but trust me for those minutes i wanted to be your everything I scrumpulously stole those seconds from your life which still make me skip a beat. I'll think about you again after a  few days, for now,enough of nostalgia. and which ***** said, Love at first sight saves time?
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44
I'm just a simple person, just like the rest Well, not entirely simple, but nonetheless It's like society and the media just say what they want To create new forms of discriminations, that will forever haunt As if the already existing ones weren't bad enough They must make sure that you feel flawed, and make your life tough I'm just another person; I removed the word simple People nowadays even get trashed for having a dimple "HA, it's just a deformity on your face!" Well, I hope you trip and fall on your own shoelace :) I'm just another person, with a not-so-great vision I need glasses, so that I don't squint at the television It makes my life easier, but the media has made it tough Their influences and the consequential societal mentality, has made my childhood rough Beauty is said to be in the eyes of the beholder Yet friendship is considered beauty, when it gives you a shoulder To cry on, is what I meant Not literally I mean it could Just didn't want to be misunderstood Why are glasses objectified, like in The Princess Diaries Is it not considered dignified to not want your eyes to get all fiery? Trust me, I'm just another person; who needs the help of glasses Media's interpretation has ruined this too, to profit their theatrical farces This is not an appraisal piece for the object that makes us see well This is a shoutout to those, who feel pressurized by this societal shell To define beauty may be complex, but it should not be controlled by someone's interest You're beautiful the way you are, to have you the world is truly blessed
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 9:46 AM UTC
Glasses
I'm just a simple person, just like the rest Well, not entirely simple, but nonetheless It's like society and the media just say what they want To create new forms of discriminations, that will forever haunt As if the already existing ones weren't bad enough They must make sure that you feel flawed, and make your life tough I'm just another person; I removed the word simple People nowadays even get trashed for having a dimple "HA, it's just a deformity on your face!" Well, I hope you trip and fall on your own shoelace :) I'm just another person, with a not-so-great vision I need glasses, so that I don't squint at the television It makes my life easier, but the media has made it tough Their influences and the consequential societal mentality, has made my childhood rough Beauty is said to be in the eyes of the beholder Yet friendship is considered beauty, when it gives you a shoulder To cry on, is what I meant Not literally I mean it could Just didn't want to be misunderstood Why are glasses objectified, like in The Princess Diaries Is it not considered dignified to not want your eyes to get all fiery? Trust me, I'm just another person; who needs the help of glasses Media's interpretation has ruined this too, to profit their theatrical farces This is not an appraisal piece for the object that makes us see well This is a shoutout to those, who feel pressurized by this societal shell To define beauty may be complex, but it should not be controlled by someone's interest You're beautiful the way you are, to have you the world is truly blessed
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39
Creature of myth, you have to be real I know you're there, I know you exist Can't see nor touch but indeed I feel That should suffice to say the least No one I know has seen this mythical creature I stand by my beliefs... I simply just do... This being unknown to aged texts or ancient scriptures Allow me to document, I'll keep it true *"A magnificent neck that tapers into a head Much like a halo, wearing a luminescent crown Azurite for eyes like many have said A golden mane majestically cascading down Almond shaped face, with cheeks slightly scaled In the centre were dimple-like nostrils From it's mouth, a voice; demure and frail Speaks in verses from a time frozen still Within the cage right under its chest I know that calmly there lay beating A huge, magnanimous heart does rest Embedded deep within a physique so beguiling Its spine is perfect, as if forged by a divine mould Limbs are long, but with gait so light Non terrestrial wings that into nothing they fold Stretched around is smoothened skin milky white"* That is all I have got to offer so far Matched the words to my mind's bewitching visage No one has seen it; thus ensured that they cannot mar In my head will forever be etched the image Creature of myth... Please be real Know that I am blinded, I just want to see Not for the others, you don't reveal I do believe... I just need to convince me...
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Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
Creature of Myth
Quite a picture of a happy woman ... in love ... or falling in love perhaps - two rows across me. Her earphones are plugged to her ears, but she is listening to no song. She is busy; typing messages - perhaps whatsapp!. Someone is teasing her ... must be quite adept at it. It has to be a boy ... not yet her boyfriend. Her smile ... her blushes ... are giving away the truths hidden in their secret flirtations. She has to wrack her wits ... she must win this war of words. She purses her lips and her cheeks cave into a lovely dimple .... that flattered glitter in her eyes has enough for a novel to begin. She is determined to reply to this message and is scanning the lounge through the corner of her eyes as if we have a cue to offer. Her head tilts and a strand of hair falls across her temple curling in a single curve from her thick eye brows to her lips, presently secured between a thoughtful bite of her teeth. The dimples are back again ... and her smile tells me that she finally has won this conversation ... and my mind tells me that while the war of words is her to win ... she has pleasurably lost the battle of hearts.
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Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 6:54 AM UTC
At the Airport Lounge
homewrecker, you lived within every callous and dimple, invading my space like dust between my fingertips your skin like wallpaper, faded and worn, pulled taunt along these walls. your thoughts a constant thumping of footsteps along the floorboards homewrecker, from you i learnt gunshots sound a lot like a key turning in a lock it's because of you i cannot look at these walls, without seeing the shadow of a fist reflected by the light homewrecker, the rooms are vacant, the air stilled, the hallways scream and close in at night. homewrecker, i used to be an open house but now because of you i shut the doors (i shut the doors)
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Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
open houses
~ dad said she'd be famous ~ *"...a doctor or diva like lena horne,"* he said he'd been doing odd day jobs and driving cabs deep into the night through  these mean city streets since ella's debut at the apollo and his smile grew wider than jackie o's reservoir in central park when this bouncing baby girl made her grand debut into his world the dimples on her cherub caramel cheeks were irresistibly pinchable and those twinkling eyes knew she'd be spoiled infinitely like a fruit-fly in a box of rotten apples ~ reality check ~ ....if you look closely you might still see one dimple; but the twinkles departed back in '75 ....and the burns on her fingertips and blistered lips ....and the bones.... jutting  like the bones of refugees and anorexics ....missing flesh ...and the tracks on her forearms and filthy jeans .....and the eyes.... shifting like the eyes of senators and thieves ....telling lies .....and the rotting corpse in a black garbage bag in fresh kills multiple choices removed from the doctor and diva of daddy's dreams hijacked by dream-killers: *smack       crack   and addiction* ~ P (Pablo) (8/1/2013)
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Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 3:26 PM UTC
Daddy's Dreamgirl...
hold still, my love! let me freeze in time that elusive essence of all that you are! let me pan from head to toe all those fleeting memories that envelope you like a halo! --that heady mix of honey and cinnamon as you say into the phone “hello!” --that dainty dimple and the happy curl of your ruby lips. is it my breath that sways those curls framing your cheeks? for years have we shared, for ages have we walked the long road together, stopping, but for mere moments, to fight our little fights and talk our little talks, to press our hands together and smile at things small and beautiful, at some rare memory. hold still, don’t breathe! don’t sway those delicious mountains and valleys where often our rivulets joined in a torrent of frenzy! where in the labyrinth of time and space did we first meet? do you remember? you are my memory and I am yours. but memories are ephemeral and fleeting and deceptive. so let me freeze them in time before you and I fade away. click!
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Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 5:35 PM UTC
camera
my love brought me tranquility. my love bought me tranquility, in a Manhattan bodega. late at night in my city, everything is for sale where least expected in mini marts, local delis, greek coffee shops, spanish bodegas pizza parlors, hardware stores, all selling salves for late night salvation purveyors of differential equations of differing soulful sustenances, certain imports that will probably never be for sale in Walmart after midnight all, readily available, twenty four seven in my miracle Manhattan heaven My woman, mapper of the byways of my ****** landmarks worn broad~ways, his-toric foot trails of tears, lines of laughters, even a purported dimple I call a crevasse. a sole survivor of a mother's birthing skill marker, duly recorded by her upon my visage, in my miracle Manhattan She knows, as do some of youse guys, that my poetry is water born(e) and water soluble, but Peconic Bay always ain't right handy, so bring on a substitute teacher, a hot bath, helps me to enunciate my verbal visitations my love brought me tranquility. my  love bought me tranquility in a Manhattan bodega. pour the aromatherapy, my love brought me for inspiration into and upon my liquid writing table, "Tranquility," a summer garden aroma It soothes my bad memories, the herbs salve accursed ancient wounds that will never ever fully heal or be forgiven my love brought me tranquility. my graces restored, this poem offered in grateful appreciation with unlimited adoration, something, maybe even the very one thing **that can't be bought, even, in my miracle Manhattan**
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
my love brought me tranquility
my love brought me tranquility. my love bought me tranquility, in a Manhattan bodega. late at night in my city, everything is for sale where least expected in mini marts, local delis, greek coffee shops, spanish bodegas pizza parlors, hardware stores, all selling salves for late night salvation purveyors of differential equations of differing soulful sustenances, certain imports that will probably never be for sale in Walmart after midnight all, readily available, twenty four seven in my miracle Manhattan heaven My woman, mapper of the byways of my ****** landmarks worn broad~ways, his-toric foot trails of tears, lines of laughters, even a purported dimple I call a crevasse. a sole survivor of a mother's birthing skill marker, duly recorded by her upon my visage, in my miracle Manhattan She knows, as do some of youse guys, that my poetry is water born(e) and water soluble, but Peconic Bay always ain't right handy, so bring on a substitute teacher, a hot bath, helps me to enunciate my verbal visitations my love brought me tranquility. my  love bought me tranquility in a Manhattan bodega. pour the aromatherapy, my love brought me for inspiration into and upon my liquid writing table, "Tranquility," a summer garden aroma It soothes my bad memories, the herbs salve accursed ancient wounds that will never ever fully heal or be forgiven my love brought me tranquility. my graces restored, this poem offered in grateful appreciation with unlimited adoration, something, maybe even the very one thing **that can't be bought, even, in my miracle Manhattan**
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75
Collectively dismal Dreadfully sinful Covered in tinsel Was a sunken dimple A quick nibble Elongated ****** Playfully twiddle Covered in spittle Quick to belittle Before her acquittal It seemed so brittle Quite noncommittal
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Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 4:01 PM UTC
Honeymoon Is Over
In those golden times When you’re up and so fine I remember you. In your silence and solitude Where you can’t be found I remember you In your laughters and smiles Celebrating each victorious moment I remember you In your heartbreaks, pain Frustrations and burden I remember you As you feel so broken Picking up pieces of yourself I remember you When you’re on a pedestal Chin up, Head high I remember you When you feel nervous and sweat out a lot I remember you When you rub your nose just because you’re shy I remember you Fake dimple, sweet smile Enamoring brown eyes I remember you Fluffy tummy, **** arms Simple stuffs i dearly love I remember you The gentlest giant I’ve ever known with words like sugar cone I remember you So dear, so true The only one I am glad to remember you As you reach out along with those butterflies I remember you Hope this will not come as a surprise It is felt rather than said that i remember you And there was never been a “never” ‘coz you’ll forever be always (always be forever) and I remember you!
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Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
I Remember You
*i like the way your blues sparkle every time you laugh and how that dimple on your right cheek appears whenever you grin. i like the way you run a hand through your blonde hair and how you like to lick your lips every once in a while. i like the way you manage to look adorable and cool at the same time. but i don't like the way we don't match, we don't fit. i don't like the way we come from completely different worlds, worlds that cannot even collide. and i absolutely loathe the way you make me feel things i don't want to feel right now, the way you make me happy.*
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Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
matt.
Naked is how I love you like an autonomous grain of sand skin against skin and your furtive passions composed nerve-cells lavish with mellifluous vibrations that wash away all signs of negative energy Naked is how I crave you that simple lithe figure faded muscles and tufts of hair a dimple with a non-existent twin palliate a thriving surge Naked, just as you lie underneath the satin sheets, and aquiline just as the same succumbed to unremitting sparks you are the motif of my every piece *and you are that act of symbiosis between the canvas and the paint*
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Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC
Naked
I sell for a living. But not the kind of selling you do at the supermarket and not the kind you do on the net but the kind where I give parts of me to strangers I will never again see. Strangers like the boy with the pretty eyes and the woman shedding tears and the gentleman with many stories. I give away the parts of me I think will make others smile an ear for you sir and a part of my heart to you madamme would you like a hand? a dimple? Let me know because I give it all and when you leave don't say goodbye, let me believe and dream that one day we will meet again and you will give those parts back so I can be whole once again for the one who would have cared
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
I am a vendor
A sharp ****** smiling depression, Called a dimple is much desirable. I have only hints of it. I wish that I had some pronounced, So prominent and obvious dimples, I have a desire for it. A deep mental negative depression, Called a gloomy grief is not desired. I have so much of it.
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Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
Depression
Women are so beautiful take a woman down to her skin and you can trace the lines of her back like tracing the curves of silken cloth every dimple every curve the crease of the neck the elegance of the shoulder blades the rolling divot of the spinal cord the curve of her sides the dimples at the bottom of her spine her hips that dint that curves around to her inner thighs her thighs her knees her ankles the feeling of pressing your naked body up to her naked body your hands on her hips your palms in her dimples your chest on her back chin in her collar fingers in her pelvic crease your lips on her neck her **** fit into your pelvis your tongue at her jaw line hands in between her thighs teeth pulling at her earlobe fingers on her **** her *** on your fingers your leg wrapped around hers your hand tracing her outline like rolling hills soft and smooth she's so beautiful and it's all so perfect
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Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
I Think I'm Bi. (Warning this outs a little explicit)
A walk down the road, Sand in my slippers, With broken straps, Life just raps! Borrow a cycle, Ride it fast, With punctured tyre, Life's a satire! Neighborhood fights, Matches every night, Scoreline's tight, Life is so bright! Steal a pen, For the next day examination, Cheat a bit, Life is sometimes **** Curse Mommy's food, Don't know what to do, Anyways have to eat, Life is so sweet! Whistling I roam, On the ***** roads, Drool over the dimple, Life is so simple!
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 4:42 AM UTC
Life Is So Simple!