the body craves carved ancient streets
pillars reflected in finger nails
stone cobbled avenues
brown leather soles softly speckled with dust
coffee rendevous carried on wisps of λεβάντα (lavendula, you whispered)
smiles turn wrinkles timeless like napkins
these errorless warriors' views
lift the weariest limbs
this hour i am still,
my lap
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in this poem, the trick was alluding to yeats' poem 'the second coming' and throw in some greek (translated by iGoogle).
i miss you. i want to drink wine with you and andee on yer next picnic.
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love it. and you.
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seriously, jess, this is one of my favorites so far.
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