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"sundress" poems
Filter the perfect shade of the forenoon sun, Not too bright, not too dull. For with ease and carefree thoughts, You let the sunbeam-drizzling fairies play As the beauty reflected in your retinas. Capture this scenic view: Where the burnt chestnut colored oaks And mudstained sweetheart sundress of yours Dance in three-four beats of waltz. The Crayola strokes of the skies And the watercolor streaks of daydreams and nightmares Paint the canvas of your disquited thoughts. This is the peripheral view from your suncrashed irises and corners, This is your world. Let your knees down to your sore feet Be engulfed by the chasms of the bewildered grass, As the smile makes it way to your plump spring lips; Callused fingers from guitar strings Twirl and twist the blades, Cutting through flesh And green and red and blue and yellow, All sorts of color came spilling from your playful bruise. From this panoramic view of yours Of a wonder wonderland, Where the ticks of clock Follow the sunflower throughout time and forever, This is the beauty of that stem: A key to escapism To a well-dreamt lovely world.
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 6:30 AM UTC
Rio's Sunflower
I’ve tattooed a line across the veins of my wrist and marked a down stroke for every time “you can’t wear red lipstick” made me believe I never wanted to in the first place. for every time instead I’ve stained my lips with cherries learning how to tie the stems so I can slip forget-me-knots to the back of your throat— do you feel my restriction now? the razors that fly off my tongue perk thorns on my skin, another down stroke on my wrist will teach me that you were right, shyness is a virtue. no need to speak, go spend one hundred dollars and some percent for tax to cover up, even though I’m sure your mother told you that cotton stains. so make it black. get your hair stuck in the zipper of that sundress and pray as you pull it out that it will lose its pigmentation in the process mark a down stroke for killing two flowers for one bouquet. hold it close your eyes and throw it back, I know we shouldn’t be wearing white anyway but tradition can take a lot out of you like what you really think— don’t say **** in public. instead drag your first impressions all the way to the altar and dress in your Sunday best a flower on your lapel clear on your lips a stroke for the neat decline of the son I tattooed a line across the veins of my wrist and marked a down stroke for every time my image was my fault.
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
tally
Barefoot as she'd left her sandals on the beach. Her tight sundress barely concealed the sight of her ******* her smooth flat stomach, and tight *** As her skin glowed under the moonlight, She looked so alive, so **** and so ready. Her short hair danced in the wind. Her dress shimmered in the breeze as if it was silk dancing in the sky. He moved down her body, with my eyes, like the hands of a skilled masseuse touching every inch of her existence.  His gaze wrapped around her like a belt, holding his attention.
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Jan 11, 2023
Jan 11, 2023 at 9:35 AM UTC
Beach Front Part 1
I tire Of the perfect: Of the flawless, The azure, The quiet, The pastoral. I tire of sunsets And of flowers I tire of perfect skin And perfect lungs I tire of politeness And I tire of patience. I am bored by golden sunrays, Reflected brightly from golden hair Trailing behind a sundress Weaving, careless, through golden wheat. I no longer want to be her. I tire of fluffy pillows And warm blankets. I am bored of hot tea And of books about things That are not real, Only beautiful figments of the mind, Only as real as the pages, the cover, Only as real as we can pretend them to be - And I am bored of pretending. I am bored with cities And with mountains And with fields And rivers And the ocean. I grow impatient with the trees And the clouds And the birds. I am bored by the beautiful. Because beautiful is beautiful, so, But it is only beautiful. And Beauty, though held fast, Esteemed above all other qualities Sought tirelessly Worshipped and envied Revered, praised Beauty is only beauty. It is not deserved. It is not earned. It cannot speak, it cannot give It cannot love. Beauty is nothing. Beauty is boring. I am bored by beauty. I do not seek what is beautiful. I will never be beautiful. But that is a very small thing To never be. I can be far, far more Than beautiful. I can be real. You are real. And I am real. And us, we We are real. What we are What we have Is real. I am not yet tired Of you. And I will never be tired of us.
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Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 4:14 PM UTC
Beauty?
I'm just an old hippie Somehow his spirit has gotten inside me I'm for peace and love and music And I like to see my girl in a sundress with a flower in her hair I'm just an old hippie; I like living free Some people don't get me They don't like my long hair They think I'm just about *** and drugs And that I don't have a care I'm an old hippie but your judgment is unfair I challenge you to read the bible and the teachings of the Lord Did he teach peace; I believe so Did he teach about love, understanding and being there for others; do I need to say more I don't like war; peace and love and music is what I live for I'm just an old hippie; I like living free
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
Just An Old Hippie
The cocktail dress split hope down the screen Letting that reoccurring dream compel me Into memories of you The clink of my cup Shattered sobriety with the pain of daybreak The ice looks like crystal but only something that will disappear and overflow your glass is standing at attention The bar stool cracked, empty and the faux leather ripped, and torn Cougars and MILFs strut down the bar top Scanning tonight’s bachelors I sit behind, for my dress is long and flannel Heavy, hot making me sweat and stink I run faster than a cheetah in my mind Tearing doors and bridges apart Speeding towards the sunrise Attempting for the *** of gold The cocktail drips from the table on to the floor A puddle I will eventually slip from Hair in my face My ankle sundress reaped with alcohol I stand up, look around Towel? But all I see is you Walking back slowly retreating to the door Leaving me to deal and regret the decisions I so poorly execute
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May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 5:29 PM UTC
The Cocktail Dress
Desires feeding our souls Gnawing and eating our flesh, until we're a vulnerable flush red Our pores exude the confident strife A conflict that should have never arrived To resurface our skin, bring back the childhood mind I still see the eight-year-old awkwardness, holding a staple makeshift poetry book and pen The young struggling mind, when dying was simple to find Daily I walk into the aroma of the sunlight Intricately snipping roses off their vines, soaking in their beauty as my fingers sting and bleed A decade incomplete She never stopped being a victim long enough to realize her heart was revitalized, made into an equal whole A rose petals thirst satisfied No insignificant being She was now a family
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Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
The woman in the flower sundress
kitten it’s time for bed go brush your teeth daddy will turn down your bed come here daddy will undress you hop on the bed let me take off your shoes and slide off your socks look at those pretty toes stand up put your hands up to the sky there you go let’s take off that sundress oh how cute your ******* have a little bow i’ll slide them down now step out there you go goodness kitten you’re so petty with no clothes give daddy a kiss mmm, kitten, you’re so sweet now into bed you go daddy will cuddle and read you a story and stay by your side till you fall asleep
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Mar 8, 2021
Mar 8, 2021 at 7:58 PM UTC
kitten, time for bed 🐱 (ddlg)
~ *It lays silkenly sweet against sun kissed skin tiny straps, perhaps strapless delicate linen softly draped tender tiny tucks and nips delicious bows tied at nape It cascades around curvy hips ‘round a waterfall that slightly drips sprightly colors all wink as they whisper and swish full of giddy and laughter, they flirt away gloom, rain and mist Teasing touches wraps around thighs dancing daisies pause as I walk by serenely skirt and brush past with a soft wispy cushion sway plump full, recline, pause to chat on a sultry summer’s day* ~
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Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 9:34 AM UTC
Sundress
my DNA is a self-made daisy chain strung together with the best of intentions and a few yards of dental floss it's always getting tangled up in moon beams and boot strings      tugging me in one thousand directions at once like the sea pulling at the limitless shorelines hem i am magic my flesh reflects the hue of the desert dust the winds bathe me in speckled with freckles that occasionally line up with the stars what a fool i'd be to paint myself into obscurity with make-up brushes and lipstick hues           no i choose me excessively sensitive to the energy of all other living beings always feeling everything all the pain and happiness love and fear and angst      at once           lumped in with the leaves of my tea destined to forever reside within      me the high-priestess of the immeasurable things the guardian of treasures unseen      constantly filling my sundress with ***** pebbles      broken feathers           and all the stardust i can find i've spent the last one thousand life times being everywhere at the EXACT same time  you should know      you were there      and oh such love i've found hiding in the shallows in the mud      and under the edges of your finger nails even in the darkness of the vast and ever-stretching sky there is so much light so very many precious gems hoisted into timeless settings along the milkyway's head-dress           i promise where i am right now is the best place to be and if you don't believe me      crane your neck towards the stars
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Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
an introduction.
my DNA is a self-made daisy chain strung together with the best of intentions and a few yards of dental floss it's always getting tangled up in moon beams and boot strings      tugging me in one thousand directions at once like the sea pulling at the limitless shorelines hem i am magic my flesh reflects the hue of the desert dust the winds bathe me in speckled with freckles that occasionally line up with the stars what a fool i'd be to paint myself into obscurity with make-up brushes and lipstick hues           no i choose me excessively sensitive to the energy of all other living beings always feeling everything all the pain and happiness love and fear and angst      at once           lumped in with the leaves of my tea destined to forever reside within      me the high-priestess of the immeasurable things the guardian of treasures unseen      constantly filling my sundress with ***** pebbles      broken feathers           and all the stardust i can find i've spent the last one thousand life times being everywhere at the EXACT same time  you should know      you were there      and oh such love i've found hiding in the shallows in the mud      and under the edges of your finger nails even in the darkness of the vast and ever-stretching sky there is so much light so very many precious gems hoisted into timeless settings along the milkyway's head-dress           i promise where i am right now is the best place to be and if you don't believe me      crane your neck towards the stars
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Walking on the sidewalk Down long, winding roads Carving through the city while my mind explodes I see a little girl wearing a velvet shirt with Marilyn Monroe It made me think of you as I found a new place to go Staring down the windows Looking for a friendly face Pushing through the avenues with nothing left to replace I see a starlight sky and a million shining eyes And I remember the time we watched them go by Leaning on the windowsill Listening to Midnight sing Only the lonely seem to remember everything I hear a country song coming from an open bedroom door It was the words you sang when you couldn't take the silence no more Here comes the morning With the sweet summer sun Barreling down the alleyways and shining down on everyone I see a gypsy woman wearing a sundress painted red As she twirled her hair I couldn't get you out of my head
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Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 12:16 AM UTC
Seemingly Everything
the summer that made the sound of crickets mean more than it did two, three, even ten summers ago. the summer that gave a warm glow within the halls of that familiar seasonal cottage the creak from each step on the stairs was each a song to be sung out the door to find her waiting for me My heart taking delightful punches with each step closer to me her sundresses a different shade of yellow just as the sun It rays peeking through the trees to compliment her lovingly Everyday was Sunday for us as they flow with each skip my mind slows her down watching every detail of her grace the summer I learned that sunsets were made for girls with brown eyes the earth revolved only for her so the sun would descend across the sky just so right to only fall into her vision and to remind me "this is what home feels like" the summer I found out that the gift life had given me was the gift of her presence for seven weeks. the beauty in her was too delicate to give away to anyone and she let me out of all the people on this planet see what god made special about her the way she blinked three times when perplexed, before asking to know more listen more learn more how she always peeled my tangerines because she knew i didn't like the peel to get under my nails when she laughed tears would always stream down her face no matter a roar or a soft chuckle and then she would swear the optometrist sprung a leak when she got Lasik when she was sad that that leak was easy to repair with a Jerry Seinfeld  impression The lone flickering street light on our street did not compare to her illumination at night a glowing goddess amongst someone so meer she was the embodiment of the sun but summer begins to drop into fall. as the trees started to lose green she packed to leave and I did too she was going back home and my home was leaving me this girl was the ****** of my story and only at the tender age of 22 and I know my tale will never have its perfect resolution without her that summer I found out she was the definition of my love but to her I was just another girl in a sundress
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Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 2:10 AM UTC
Tangerines Haven't Tasted As Sweet Since She Peeled Them For Me.
the summer that made the sound of crickets mean more than it did two, three, even ten summers ago. the summer that gave a warm glow within the halls of that familiar seasonal cottage the creak from each step on the stairs was each a song to be sung out the door to find her waiting for me My heart taking delightful punches with each step closer to me her sundresses a different shade of yellow just as the sun It rays peeking through the trees to compliment her lovingly Everyday was Sunday for us as they flow with each skip my mind slows her down watching every detail of her grace the summer I learned that sunsets were made for girls with brown eyes the earth revolved only for her so the sun would descend across the sky just so right to only fall into her vision and to remind me "this is what home feels like" the summer I found out that the gift life had given me was the gift of her presence for seven weeks. the beauty in her was too delicate to give away to anyone and she let me out of all the people on this planet see what god made special about her the way she blinked three times when perplexed, before asking to know more listen more learn more how she always peeled my tangerines because she knew i didn't like the peel to get under my nails when she laughed tears would always stream down her face no matter a roar or a soft chuckle and then she would swear the optometrist sprung a leak when she got Lasik when she was sad that that leak was easy to repair with a Jerry Seinfeld  impression The lone flickering street light on our street did not compare to her illumination at night a glowing goddess amongst someone so meer she was the embodiment of the sun but summer begins to drop into fall. as the trees started to lose green she packed to leave and I did too she was going back home and my home was leaving me this girl was the ****** of my story and only at the tender age of 22 and I know my tale will never have its perfect resolution without her that summer I found out she was the definition of my love but to her I was just another girl in a sundress
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Brothers! And some sisters too... It’s time! It’s time to step forward And proclaim to the people We love *** We adore *** Don’t be offended It’s just a compliment... I’m an *** man That’s who I am ***** shorts are like Spidey Senses Yoga Pants are letting people know what you haved Sundress Season makes me incoherent I don’t give a **** So many, so little time If you got a big one, you're considered a dime I’m not a rapper But I can rhyme Some call me perverted I call me observant Is that a big crime? When I stand behind her And she grinds on me at the time Don’t trip Y’all do it too Some chicks act like it’s a big taboo It’s really not It's because you’re hot Whoops I forgot, they get told that nonstop But that *** though Make it bounce I want to tap it So juicy So bubbly So yummy On top of that, literally she’s a beauty. Put your hands up like Billy Gunn If you’re like me It’s time To step forward and say I am an *** man
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Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 6:22 PM UTC
*** Man
Wear a sundress in the winter And open your window when it rains Write a poem on your Math test And start drinking at sun rise **** your best friend And smoke a joint in your bed room Skinny dip in the day time And go out without shoes on Kiss on the first date And drink margaritas on a cold day Laugh when nothing's funny And weep in a crowded room Make fun of yourself in the mirror And sit in traffic just because Fall asleep on the floor And jump in the pool with your clothes on Eat chocolate chip pancakes at midnight And make snow angels in the sand Love yourself And brag about it all the time
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Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 12:56 AM UTC
I Fell in Love in a Traffic Jam
Marigold’s fever Heavy heart griever Saunters in the warm breeze With an airy sundress tease Soft and sturdy grassy patches Where she matches Rows of orange and yellow stashes Named for the steady flower With its strong stem tower That humid air Quite the flare for the flowers and her hair She sits with her mind debates Love and flowers she waits Even on cloudy days Without a phase She sits there everyday Pondering thoughts of flower devotion from mankind Perhaps she has given up hope There she is not known to be a good find Her quiet place of solitude Has left her not to be pursued A day has come that’s too steamy Left her not to be able to be dreamy Quite the wind Has taken her pink hat for a spin She runs to retrieve as it flips There she falls and trips She hears a voice That sounds like her choice She looks up Sees a man holding a pup What has caught her eye that’s much too bright She holds her hand up high in fright There his hand meets hers with marigolds held in golden light
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Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 5:12 PM UTC
Marigold’s Fever
now I'm a shipwreck in a sundress, an aimless, shameless coquette – a first kiss, a second guess, a weak and wobbly pirouette.
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Jul 30, 2011
Jul 30, 2011 at 8:06 PM UTC
I shouldn't have spent the afternoon with your poems;
I want to be in a love like this forever. With your eyes grazing my skin, Following your circling fingertips. You touch me in a way, so delicately, So lovingly, like you actually care. Your kisses that you place on my forehead As I’m drifting off into paradise Remind me what spring love is supposed to look like. The grass under my toes pull me into the present While we dance across the lawn with our hands intertwined. Butterflies zig zag across my vision and you spin me around. The music drowns out all of our other problems. And life feels beautiful. When I’m in my sundress and You’re watching me from our picnic blanket You tell me you love me, and my heart begins to flutter. The last days of cold are erased by your beautiful laugh The warmth of sunlight and the soft cool breeze Further pushes our passion and solidifies our feelings. You grip my waist and lift me into the air. Time feels rosy and fair, while the birds chirp and call. With no real agenda, without the controlling menace of time. We hold hands and spend the afternoons enjoying the bliss. The newly bloomed flowers and reappearance of green Feels like a long awaited, highly anticipated surprise As does our relationship. We take in the pink skies together, Hoping we will never have to say goodbye, Affectionately kissing one another. Knowing this is a time we will always miss. Spring, is a time for new beginnings. It is the perfect time, for a love like this.
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May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 5:01 PM UTC
Spring Love
3am in the morning and I'm strolling you walk by looking like the choosen eye contact and the chemistry explodin body language speaking loudly, smiling as I close in sundress, hair tied, matching purse looking wooven pretty lips, beautiful satin eyes that matching your clothin slim waist, thick thighs hypnotized by your vibes love at first sight from first sight of your eyes ask you where you from as I walk you home the more we talk, the more we vibe before you know it, I'm sitting on your sofa our hands are all over, lips are getting closer mouths open wipe, bodies begging for closure instinct taking over, bodies getting closer climaxes reaching closure laying side to side and then its over
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Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 8:39 PM UTC
Freestyle legacy
At the beach. Wind blowing hair. Sundress. Hear the crash of the waves on the sand and the Seagulls. Its salty sandy fun wet warm and cool. Sunkisses. Tan legs. Thinking about love... Listening to music At peace Freedom Its mine; This moment. And I am free. Mellow♥
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Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 5:43 PM UTC
Mellow: Summer
the soft grass tickles my bare feet as I walk across the bluegrass and I realize that it may be a bit sterotypical for a girl like me a sundress wearing sweet tea drinking southern girl like me to tell you that Kentucky is not a place i want to leave but heres the thing I've got all my teeth a pretty full vocabulary and a 28 on my ACT and here in Kentucky, we're hobbits, not hillbillies we're more than just a basketball team and maybe in the dictionary, its Daniel Boon and geography and home of the KY Derby but hell we've got Johnny Depp and George Clooney and the beautiful mountains and trees in Eastern Kentucky and we have culture and cuisine, and so many things that if you still think I'm stereotypical, then maybe I dare you to see what youre missing.
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Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 9:34 AM UTC
MY kentucky home
She tasted like cigarettes and whiskey... she wore red lipstick and a tight black dress. I didn't feel a thing for her except envy when we first met. She told me with a smile I couldn't handle my liquor and I laughed in her face and swallowed that Whiskey straight down. She grabbed my hand and we were gone. The next night she tasted like Vanilla and Chai.. she wore black ripped jeans and purple lipstick. I didn't feel a thing for her except humor. I told her with a smile she couldn't handle her liquor and she laughed and swallowed that Scotch straight down. I grabbed her hand and ran . One more night and she tasted like bubble gum and spice... she wore a black sundress and combat boots. I felt like maybe I was falling in love with this girl. She told me with a smile that we should get some drinks since we both can't handle out liquor. I laughed and grabbed her hand and we walked off to the bar.
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 11:37 AM UTC
She tasted like...
i am just an 8 year old boy dressed up in church clothes grass stains on knees, of course food stains on tie and shoulders, of course in 1998 you are my 9 year old sister and i am sitting in a live oak tree with a slingshot and a shit-eating grin against a cheekful of big chew bubblegum and you're gossiping with your friends you are wearing a likely sundress and a necklace that i will eventually pawn for 50 dollars i snuck out of grown-up church 15 minutes early i hid the slingshot here last night i spent yesterday before anyone was awake before the sun had unleashed her magic on the sky sharpening my vision perfecting my aim feeling the shot i did 45 jumping jacks like in phys ed class and i knew why i had done these things it's because i'm jealous it's because you're perfect it's because you love me even when i don't deserve it it's because you're beautiful and everyone knows it it's because i love you too even though i rarely show it
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 5:53 PM UTC
ode to sister
Life flows through the doors, Dispersed by the ceiling fan, A makeover for every patron, The waitress serves a second chance. Ex-husband but current parent, Negotiating with a teenage daughter, Two untouched lunch plates, As the gap grows further and further. Central focus being on a book cover, Held by an E.R nurse still in her scrubs, The waitress tries to decipher a meaning, All while wiping leftovers from table tops. The calender on the wall says Friday, And in walks a sundress along with a button down, Two steaks and a red rose, Right up comes the waitress with a dinner to astound. Beginnings and ends in motion, The clock cues for the 40-something man, In the far corner he sips his black coffee, Forlorn eyes of a widow staring at a wedding band. Wiping beads of sweat from her forehead, Retying her hair into a secured knot, Exhaustion slowly kicking in, As she refills the coffee *** The college girl strolling in with her book bag, Smiles with pity at her as she gives her order, She thinks of how her minimum wage must look, But her love for her job makes her smile never falter. Days are something treasured, Every hour, a different movie plays, She collects all those stories, With the tip left after the customer pays.
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Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
The Waitress
Do you remember the day we bought our beers, packed our bags and made our own party on the hill beside our building? It was just you and me and the sun. We were celebrating the first warm day of spring, but you still insisted on stouts, and they quickly lost their cool in the sunlight but I didn't mind. I brought my camera and photographed the wind curling through that blue and green sundress you loved, and you danced as if you were a leaf in autumn. Until you spilled your beer, to which I reacted only with regrettable anger. You stopped dancing. That lead us inside, away from the sunlight, to end the memory. You never wore that sundress again, and didn't enjoy those stouts the same way. We never celebrated another change of season, and I never again photographed you in the wind.
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
Sundress
A road trip with someone Driving along the long road Listening to our favorite songs Singing in the car Wearing my sundress Taking polaroid pictures Standing on the field of flowers Looking at you with shy smile Wearing flower crown Lying on the mandala blanket Reading poetry books Sitting under at the blushing sunset sky Watching the sun disappear Candle lights Sleeping under the stars Talking about life and dreams Making memories Forgetting the world
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Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 5:17 AM UTC
Reverie