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The belt

In half paralysis of senses
I look at the belt you gave me
To tie an instant makeshift…

Somewhere, on its inner skin
The belt still keeps a guy’s smell,
Your smell…

A belt…
A circle drawn with compasses...

A makeshift circle you drew:
This is to be done,
This is not to be done…

To smell a belt,
This is not to be done.
But somewhere, on its inner skin
It keeps your smell
Alive…
©2007-2009 ~Dlyrical
:icondlyrical:

Author's Comments

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Comments


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:iconaripel:
The smell of you is still on the clothes you left behind... I hate you as much as I love the smell you left behind, the smell that reminds me of the good times...

--
Here Goes Nothing!
:icondlyrical:
no!!!!!!!!! it's not hate!!!!!!!!!! no way!!!!!!!!! somehow u grasped the feeling of this poem with the smell..., but it's also about conditioning and barriers/ limits... in love, we shouldn't impose limits to us or to the other one... u cannot say, love me like this... or love me up to this point... or love me at this time of the day... cause what's deep down resurfaces and wants to breathe, to be... anyway, there shouldn't be conditioning, only conditioners lol for curly hair locks :)

--
I am an angel asleep. I need mouth to mouth awakening.
~ROLiterature

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August 5, 2007
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