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Ballerina

I’ll call her my very own ballerina Image result for ballerina

as she pirouettes in and out of my mind;

her feet barely touching the ground

passionate, yet seemingly detached

as if they weren’t real limbs at all.

I’ll call her my very own ballerina

as she turns and points and scurries through my thoughts

poised and graceful;

dancing her own performance in hypnotic circles

in the theater of my mind.

She finishes in a grande jeté,

She leaps forward from my hidden corners

and bows in front of me,

arms outstretched

white knuckles clenching a beating heart

She was my muse,

and I, her biggest balletomane.

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

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Excuse me for this, I just want a kiss.

You should have seen his face.

I swear it wasn’t the kind that you forget easily. It’s the kind that makes you remember a whole lot more after a couple of drinks in your system. It’s the kind that you want to wake up to in the morning a couple of years from now and kiss on the nose. And you could kiss his nose cause its the cutest nose that would undoubtedly be the first thing that turns rosy red at the first touch of winter.

You should have seen his eyes

They were the lightest shade of brown I had ever seen. It was such a light shade that I could see his outstretched hands as he held up his phone to capture the moment that I would now be writing about.

That I would now be thinking about.

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

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Paper boats

I watched it float along the muddy stream that had just formed outside my gate. I watched it rotate in a circle. I watched as the structure became weaker with every drop that seeped through the paper. It didn’t break. It just faltered. Like me, It didn’t break. I watched it slowly move down the little stream as the cold drops of rain touched my head and soaked my bones. It felt good. I felt alive. and revived. The same feeling you gave me when you kissed me. Just as the rain quenched my thirst and drenched my lips, I remembered your lips. Your kiss.

I didn’t write this for you. No. I’m being selfish. I wrote this for me. Just me.

I’m content. I have you around my fingers. And I’m finally alive.

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow