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Messages - sonnynad

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Review My Poetry / Untitled 2
« on: January 10, 2018, 05:01:25 AM »
It was her favorite time of day.

The sun danced across her fingertips
The evening swallowed her, the curtain shadows kissed her lips
Brushing against the sea of curls, of waves
My touch lingered, my eyes- they misbehaved.
 
Following the bump on her nose- insecure, she was never fond of it
She did not know -that in my eyes, it was the perfect fit
Touching her sharp edges- driving the knives up my skin
With who and where have you been?
No new messages- empty iphone
Delicately, hands grazed her harsh cheekbone

Dove into her sweet, soft lips
Jumped off the building into her apocalypse
Embracing her, whispering gently
Praying that we could always love- never be friendly

Her breathing deeper, heartbeat grew loud
Gravity, kissing her neck, making no sound
Her sweet scent, better than any perfume
Filling my mind, filling the bedroom

The sheets stung her warm skin

Grabbing my hand, tender nails cutting the sea
Softly, she whispers- do you love me?
Loving every curve on her hips
Tickling the inner thigh- with my lips

Looking, tracing the paths on her body I travelled
Scared of recognizing the beast she unravelled
Tears are beautiful, my pain divine
How sad. A touch ironic, that you cannot be mine

I sleep.

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Review My Poetry / To Asya:
« on: January 10, 2018, 04:59:02 AM »
Cigarettes were never good for you
But I壇 rather be in Barcelona
With buds beneath my shoe

Oceans away
We dive into our daily tasks
Memorizing by day,
Only to forget with empty flasks,

You- dreaming of electrons- an organized disorder
As your glasses watch your hair grow longer
Because we all know, that beautiful science,
Must be consumed, by an equally beautiful mind
The snowflakes fall, then fall asleep upon your shoulder
Me-at 17 degrees, the California winds grow colder
The sun embraced my wrinkled nose
The quiet sand, cried beneath my toes

But I壇 rather be in Barcelona
With buds beneath my shoe
Laughing on a street, where my cigarettes were good for you

3
Review My Poetry / Somewhere But Here
« on: January 10, 2018, 04:56:48 AM »
In Paris, I like the bread, Dior, and fine wine
But take me to the sands, to slow down our precious time
Perhaps Dubai, Jordan, or Oman
To watch my children grow old- until the break of dawn

At day- take me to Spain
Let them indulge and be my lovers, until I知 sane
When I知 in Barcelona, take me to Greece
Where I read Sappho and pretend I致e reached my inner peace

When I知 in Crete, take me to Mexico
To dance and cry until you spot a gray hair grow
When I知 in Tijuana, take me to Russia
I heard they have great vodka, women, and discussions

When I知 in Moscow, take me to California
Where tattoos and sunsets feel slightly normal
When I知 in Sacramento, take me to France
To fall in love with strangers, by pure chance

When I知 in Paris,
Perhaps I値l stay till half past nine,
I like the bread, Dior, and fine wine
Which I will then forget,
So I could live- just one more time

4
Review My Poetry / Perfect Paper Cup
« on: January 10, 2018, 04:53:49 AM »
Take me and rip me apart,
 
Cut my corners, smooth my edges,
Scribble on me, compose on my pages
Make me into your perfect paper cup
Then take your love and fill me up
with sweet sweet wine,
Drain me softly, sipping the bitter, consuming the divine
Empty my ego, drink from me straight,
Spare no drop, you池e three months too late
For I, was already crumbling, ripping at the seams
When you tossed your love into my dreams
When you chiseled my corners with a soft butter knife
Sculpting, molding my clay, breathing in life.

When you made me into your perfect paper cup
Only for me to wither, and watch you slowly fill up
Another- a different one- a glass
Overflowing, red wine- staining the grass
For you to tear me down, so you could be born
Is three months too late
For I was already torn

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