A woman is as feather
in the word Muted accent and our
silly thoughts loveable
Deep chocolate throat
always an adorable, graceful
face in tears smiles
toward me — the liar is
a woman wishing she had
something other than me:
a poet writing just words
we are nude loving
our own paintings___see.
How i love you
and me/this precious thing
is called beautiful woman/
eating all of me as always
i cut short my poetry.

:: 03.08.2022 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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