Moans of passion.
I'm falling into sheets,
a facade of 'together forever'.
Butterflies flitter from my mouth
as violet blossoms
upon your honeydew skin.
Need to say what I know,
they're only words,
but my heart is real.
- - -
Second poem of the day. I'm just on a roll this week! Want to see if I can break my record of ten posts in seven days? I'll bet a cookie I can do it at this rate.
I quite enjoy the fact that as I was writing this it somehow turned into a poem about hickeys. I swear that was not my intention at all. You know what they say, some of the best writing is an accident. Or maybe only I say that, and maybe it only applies to me. :)
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"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."