December 2011
DIARY- the goods.: his diary, 4 →
etans:
her hair fell down to her hips
each strand, dreaded by her hand
and as she turned her head
her locks wrapped around her curves
her skin was glowing as if the sun was trapped inside of her
she had a simple kind of beauty
the kind that wasn’t applied in the morning to be taken down later on
i…
November 2011
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You write one poem and I’ll write you hundreds Tease my heart with your touch and I’ll give it to you I go weak at the knees when you smile at me One glance, one word, one grin and I am yours I fall hard and much too fast for you Because you have some kind of hold on me
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