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Aching
In your arms, I am aching. Waiting to be kissed. Cursed with a craving, that sinks into my skin, keeping me awake and aching, waiting for the pacing monologue of my mind to subside. I can barely hide it. Inching closer and closer, lips laced in red, bringing your attention to my intentions. I am…
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Blossoms
Blossoms in winter, because nothing makes much sense, in our crazy world.
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Living
Thank you for giving, giving up, setting me free. I’m growing. Living.
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An Open Letter To Male Poets
Hello clever man, who towers, only in height, and has the same syndrome as boys who buy big cars. There’s something you should know. I’ll say it slow, so I don’t get overwhelmed, because you know we women are not complex, so quiet, so one dimensional, (feel free to mention all the books you’ve read,…