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Orbs of WonderMy caress of evening,Orbs of Wonder by squibblyquill
My breath of morning,
Take the blessing laying
Lightly on my sleepy lids,
The light of whose orbs
Wakes to your traces in the sun.
My little ghost,
While we are far,
The sky melts the wonder of souls in its pot;
Perhaps our wonders mingle there.
Odor of AffectionSome joys are held in the handOdor of Affection by squibblyquill
Or grappled with the eyes...
But tonight your blessing lies
In the distant,
Love in this form
Like the jasmine
Wafting down the wall
As I pass with a passing smile.
A warm heart, though far,
With precious, mundane affections.
Suspected EmotionI would tell you that your arms are home,Suspected Emotion by squibblyquill
But they may not hold me.
I would praise the feel of your lips on mine,
But I've never seen them move.
I might relent and say I craved your touch,
Yet what if it's dull or burns?
How many times do we have to learn
That we have so much to learn about one another?
And who can call it desire where its end
And object remain obscured, in distance mired?
I'd like to tell you about the light in your eyes,
But who am I that does not know their color?
I'd like to praise the humor in your voice,
But its tones have never reached my ears.
I might admit I dream up with flesh landscapes
The latent mandates of emotion wafting unspoken;
Yet what joy could it bring that was not suspect?
You are to me a blank slate, a clear encryption,
Interface as innocent as you are devoid
Of all those little indications
Which prove so crucial, so revelatory
To a heart unsheathed.
Yes, you are a blank slate
That I have already colored in my mind.
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