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"fragance" poems
This heaviness, a stone in the chest, a brooding passion flower, fully at bloom, at moonlit night- emits the distinct scent of the tormentor of my heart, an intoxicating accent it exudes-- which cages my mind. Lust is its subtext. Lungs are bottled up with a mix of her pheromones, signature perfume and the musky scent of her sweat, If a girl, with that intensity gets in to the system, mixes in blood, it's excruciating pain, is a bane, and an insane ecstatic bliss, same time! This isn't animal instinct, I know, didn't she bare her mind though on the sly, in words that has many facets, like a diamond? No, still not sure, feels like an idiot, (Wasn't she quite an artist, playing with my heart? But I am totally her's, can't help it, from those moments, which refuses to leave me in peace) A longing that won't let me take her off from  my mind's GPS. Oh! now, shut both eyes and imagine her undress in slow moves, her lush, chiselled form, sends me waves of fragance, I am on the verge of collapse... Then- suddenly the phone rings, she complains a heaviness of heart, ***** thoughts that- refuse to go to sleep. "What would you do for this?" she  anxiously whispers, "Hey, you are the only doctor, I can lay my hands on, to keep this malady at bay, I badly need you near here, **Is it true? Am I falling in love with you?"**
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Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
Am I falling In Love with you?
*I love with my hands with a warm embrace, a light pat on the back, high fives, fist bumps two thumbs up* A heart may not be for loving. *I love with my feet when I wait in line, while window-shopping, running away with you, walking down the aisle* A heart may not be for loving. *I love with my eyes that still weep long after you're gone, that have baggage big enough to carry yours* A heart may not be for loving. *I love with my lungs you                             are my                                   oxygen* A heart may not be for loving. *I love with my brain the mind finds patterns, makes connections you paint everything I see, hum every song I hear you are every fragance, each succulent morsel and in slumber, still I find you in my dreamscape* A heart may not be for loving. *A heart may not be for loving, but without it I cannot think I won't see what I touch or where I'm going And I won't remember to           breathe.*
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Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
The Anatomy of Romance
Sky so blue. Sun shining through. Such a nice warm day. In my head I hear this beautiful song play. Winter is almost gone. Spring is where I long. Such colorful flowers and trees filled with green leaves. The first day you sit outside drinking a cup of tea. The sun warming your smiling face. Take a deep breath and you will taste. The fragance of sweet flowers and fresh grass so delightful. Birds singing so cheerful. All the beauty that nature brings. Can't wait to feel that first day of spring.
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 12:15 PM UTC
First day of spring...
this morning there was fog over my eyes and every time i looked to the left or to the right the clouds would be pushed to the sides of my eyes for a bit and there was a light pulse behind my temples but my head did not hurt it was more of a confusion that was lingering and oh god i just lost my train of thought there is a teacher here and i should be listening but i always tend to write during this class my handwriting won't be able to be read by anyone else i hope that i can read this later on my teacher is trying to read this over my shoulder while she talks and i should probably feel bad about it but i don't there are a lot of things that i should do this is my first step towards invincibility without feelings i don't need, i can do anything and this is a fairly average writing style but i am trying not to care, i don't really care there was something i was going to write but i keep forgetting what i was going to say there is the fragance of cologne masking the stench of substance and it is greatly distracting me from the distractions that i have set in place for myself i don't need the help i thought i did
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Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 9:18 PM UTC
written during a history class
It's not related with being blazed, I swear It's just the effect of homemade breakfast and inhalete its fragance And hear the sizzle of the rain moaning through the window It's the tender touch of my finger tips on the cat's ribs The little holes on my socks where my feet breath It´s the blood coming out from where I'd cut my nails too deep The cobwebs shinning on the lamps And the connivance with the ants and lizards in my room It's the effect of laying on a bed of fresh sheets Or surrender to the light of an insipid movie It's rise my gaze at the glowing dampness of my ceiling It's my house entering by my arteries and filling my rhyme's saturated ventricles It's the vampire of the time & memory & mirrors & white rabbits & multicolor smiles of a tired sun It's feel laughs in the silence and love in melancholia By tomorrow I'll get out of my daily routine, I´d hope come back alive
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Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC
Day to day
We were happy In an ordinary day. In this city, Who knew, The splendor of your eyes. We were happy, In our hands, Any one together, While I was driving, And I don't remember Where we went or were. We were happy, In the courage You gave to me, As loving you I found myself. We were happy, Living in the lives of each one, long time ago. We were happy, In an ordinary day, Perfumed , By the softness, Fragance of the love.
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
We were happy