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Who is that girl?
I know I shouldn't be looking, but I am.
Her soft complexion, her grey thin rims rest on her bridge
her lips - the pink shade that you just want to - touch, taste - drown in
I'm lost in this stranger. Inticing she is.
My mind guesses her name. My body moves - continously - in my seat, wondering about her.
What does her voice sound like? Does her tongue roll and curl when she talks?
Does her smile melt men?
Is her skin smooth, what is her smell, what scent bears on her neck?
Does she stay warm at night?
Has she ever seen me?
The way her lashes blink behind the glass
How her lips sit on her face, drawn and drooped
She seems sad - by guess. Maybe just tired
She rests on the chair, head back
hair falling behind.
It's golden brown; that of Marie.
oh...
I confuse myself. This is wrong, but...
but I'm just running in a day dream.
oh apologies Marie
[This message has been edited by machinery (edited February 08, 2001).]
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nice...different but nice...actually when i say nice i mean that the poem was good but also had a nice tone which is different than your usual bite...but not everything has to bite so i enjoyed this poem. good work...you could make it into a song i thing...maybe...
___---parch
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Good poem, something about it just kinda soothes, relaxes, means nothing, but flows and keeps you interested at the same time.
I liked it a lot for some strange reason, nice. Keep it up.
