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Rated: E · Poetry · Music · #1765369
from April 2007
Her hair flows with the wind,
snakes and dances amongst leaves,
the star of this autumn ballet.
Her scent floats: free-spirited,
like her, drifts spontaneously
seductively, sweetly enchanting.
I’ve never fallen before, but now
like the crisp golden leaves,
I skydive from weak-weary branches.
Her skin like milky oceans,
I’m caught without a ripple
drowning with every glance.
Only to be devoured
by the heaven in her eyes!
But this ballet is unpredictable,
sweet symphonies fall silent
while she dances to Bartok
I thrive off our love
but she runs from my arms,
Sharing sugarcane kisses
That are cut short, they’re too short!
And when I’ve had enough,
This saccharine dancer,
leaves a lasting impression -
Fingerprints – between my ears.
She has a hold on me,
that makes me hold onto her.
Dainty fingers slam piano keys
Bartok will always play,
at this ballet inside my head,
inside my heart.
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