Re-occuring 2.0

Rhymes, Writings, and Confessions to Small Crimes

I like to pretend that you know…

How I think of you during the days and nights to help me pass the time.

I imagine that you would enjoy hugging me from behind. That you would wrap your long arms around my torso and breathe my scent slowly. Your heavy breath, O so showy.

As if you have before; with in a place in time not yet exposed. My imagination relentlessly finds her way to impose.

Your lips and the way you talk to me is of a foreign sweetness. Exotic honesties of your intention leave my mind during the day but they return in strength in the evenings.

How can I continue to entertain these unwarranted thoughts and taunts?

It is not necessary for me to have any more desires. Is my mind or my heart’s emptiness all that toying requires?



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