SHE FILLS ME WITH POETRY

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SHE FILLS ME WITH POETRY

She fills me with poetry.

Her gaze smelling like caramel on roses.

She projects the hiding emotions and carefully give to each, their doses.

A soft tissue to cry on and a set of makeup to smile with

And here i am to play with words and pretend as if she were a myth.

She fills me with poetry.

Her rejection rifles the tides of pain.

The tears fills the ink and the pen writes to release the bane.

Who is a poet if he doesn't get his inspiration through his lifespan.

Behind every successful poet, there's a metaphorical woman.

She fills me with poetry.

She dances and i catch the harmony of her writhing like flies under florescence.

I nurse the strings and tune them to the perfect pitch.

With her twirls and my soaked being, the ink paints its essence.

And that's why she carries the core of my pieces and gathers my scars to stitch.

She fills me with poetry.

She is the shooting rays of the stars that draws up the horoscope.

I am her ancient astrologist who paints her movement through the telescope.

So i made her a whole planetarium just for her geometry.

And she will always be the light in my world, because she fills me with poetry.

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