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he dances a kind of genius
against white walls;
all prim and branched out

the fireplace, calm as the setting sun,
carries me
                  to
                     him

fingers sweep each other
collecting dead skin and dialogue

we giggle like short-lived kids
playing with drugs

his smile vintage, lips dry as cocoa mix
now moist as dew kissed grass

the table acquaints us
panties wilt to the obese rug...
among spilled wine and cradled glass



©iampoetry

Creative Commons License
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
:iconiampoetry:

Author's Comments

Fill in the blank ஐ

:new:

Some minor edits, if you can even notice.

Daily Deviation

Given 2009-01-26

It is very easy to become swept away by spilled wine by *IAmPoetry. As the suggester notes 'this poem is very sensual and poignant and includes very warm imagery. However, the end of the poem leaves plenty to the imagination and just asks for the poem to be read and enjoyed again,' and again - and I will certainly agree! (Suggested by ^fllnthblnk and Featured by ^LadyLincoln)

Comments


:iconblueskye27:
The table acquaints us... what a great line.
:iconscarlettletters:
I love the vintage smile..

--
An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy that sustains him through temporary bouts of joy.
:iconiampoetry:
:)

--
Poetry is truly boundless. It is my passion, writing to you, that is. I am the canvas.
--
my poetry, lemon
both bitter and tart
you decide the taste of my art

©iampoetry
:iconiampoetry:
Simple too. :)

--
Poetry is truly boundless. It is my passion, writing to you, that is. I am the canvas.
--
my poetry, lemon
both bitter and tart
you decide the taste of my art

©iampoetry
:iconfllnthblnk:
Moi?

This poem is excellent. Every line adds to the poem. Bravo! :clap:

--
Clearfield Review: Prose, Poetry, Art.
:iconiampoetry:
Seriously? Wow...coming from you, just wow.

--
Poetry is truly boundless. It is my passion, writing to you, that is. I am the canvas.
--
my poetry, lemon
both bitter and tart
you decide the taste of my art

©iampoetry
:iconphantomthiefvier:
love the short-lived kids part and i agree with scarlettletters about the vintage smile. =)

--
"what do we want?"
"BRAAINS!"
"When do we want them?"
"BRAAINS!"
*facepalm*
:heart::blackrose::tea::blackrose::heart:
:iconiampoetry:
Thanks:)

--
Poetry is truly boundless. It is my passion, writing to you, that is. I am the canvas.
--
my poetry, lemon
both bitter and tart
you decide the taste of my art

©iampoetry
:iconohsostarryeyed:
"our fingers sweep each other
collecting dead skin and dialogue"

:heart:

--
i like to
put haikus where they
don't belong.
:iconhamletspants:
This is gorgeous - "...his smile is vintage" - a great description that somehow works perfectly - a great poem all around.

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