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Her flame
spread upon
his heart
red on red
he faced

No prayer
in hand
or a cup
share forth

His full moon
ran away
leaving heart's

On fire
To seethe, where

Her pass hurts

Logan Robertson

There's a poetry contest I've come across
at Poetry Soup-Charlieku.
It challenges the contestants with a new
poetry form-15 lines./with these syllable counts
(23232), (3232), (323), (23), (3)

Interesting form. Stimulated my thoughts
as I look outside the window.

Some men have a moon that looks
over them through and through and the feeling is reciprocal.
That would be the plan. Sigh.
  5h yasaman johari
Arms to hold us up
when our legs buckle
from under us
and lips to kiss us
good morning.
Not with your pear-shaped eyes which are a perfect colour of brown,
Or what they do to me when you look my way.
Not with that deep-bass voice of yours that's so **** ****,
and how it keeps me glued to the phone.
Not with how you have this way with words,
and how you sound so charming and cheesy all at once.  
Not even with that, half naughty-half innocent crescent between your cheeks, and how it's stuck, when we share an inside joke in public.
Not with that strong musky scent of yours that reels me in so bad,
Or how it turns me on when I just think about it on my skin.
Not with how you make me laugh at you and then with you,
and then even wipe my tears of laughter.
Not with just these things.
They have been loved enough.
But, I do want to fall in love with everything about you...
that the others never did.
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