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Wishful Thinking

I would sing you a song

in 7 different languages

if that meant

you would look up at me just once more.

My fingers would make love

to the piano keys

until it screamed out orgasms in your ear,

if it meant

that I could; not only hear

but watch my name roll off your tongue.

I would place my lips to yours

and drink the sound of my own name

before it started to spill from the edges

of your carefully placed smile,

If that meant

that I belonged to you

for just half a second

on your tongue.

I could breathe

the fumes of that last cigarette

you held between your fingers,

even though I am repulsed by the mere mention of it,

if it meant

that I could feel this way

about someone again.

 

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

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Author:

I stare at walls hoping that something would guide me to another dimension where everything makes sense. I take life as it comes. I reside in which is now known to be the fastest growing city in the Middle East, Dubai. Surrounded by fake greenery and dusty air, I long for rain. I long for rain to drench my very being, untill i feel nothing but clean and revived. I dream of happy things and i know for certain that Peter pan and pixies and fairies and Santa exists. I know. Because theres no point in not believing. Im a child. I am a grain of sand. I am a speckle of dust in this polluted world. I am a spirit roaming the end of the earth, trying to find that wall. (Read the page Painted shadow for details)

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