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Love or infatuation poem

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Is it affection or true love?

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Feels like All-consuming euphoria similar to recreational drug use addictive chemical reactions in the brain , stupidity cupidity. These questions are not rhetorical, I'm sure it's all metaphorical. Love has realistic standards.

Maybe we shouldn't have ever whacked. The season changes in a matter of days.

Is it affection or true love?

And just like coffee. Let your aroma tingle and stimulate the smiles of those around. The best source of touch Without cream or sugar. Stir the organic presentation that brings the next minute that much closer. Whether the preference is a mug or a styrofoam cup. Remember, At the end of the day. Coffee fits into any size container And brings to life any size smile. With one quick sip The senses awake to a new day. Swirled in unspoken travel sized rule. It follows, The beautiful ovation that rushes once poured. Beautifully represented by your smile. The tone of your skin. Your hair naturally at ease. Stirred by a finger. Specialism by the majority nodding away, Yet awaken by your essence. Soon extracted and brought to life. And just like coffee, I look forward to a cup of you I just sit and gaze, And watch my walls burn in a blaze, As I become captive to her eyes, I see my darkest dreams But I take a glance In thought that I have a fleeting chance Of escaping from her, Not yet, it seems. I fall to my knees And I utter my pleas, But she just smiles, In the darkness, her smile gleams. When does our weekend begin Time flies in contemplation. The day ends, quick to start. Belittling how the nights are not the same. The laughs that start soon as I see you. Things that occupy time until the next time. Again becoming a past time. The season changes in a matter of days. The weekend still so far. The human heart a mystery. Restrained throughout the week. To see you, to feel you. The embrace of like minds melting in the torch of where we dwell most. The week becoming longer and longer. When can my heart beat it's fullest. Running away with every throb. Taking you further and further away from where we have to come back. When does our weekend begin. Holiday included, extended weekend. The weekend is near Your not just beautiful. I see you every time I look up. The star that shines it's brightest. The moon lit like a dream. And forever I stare. Listening to the silence. Awaken by a soft light I know it's you. I can feel your touch hovering about. Counting the steps until our arms leave our side. The possibility of traveling from one sphere to the next. Our eyes but dots in wait. The question of rockets and big bangs. The essence of time interlocked between our fingers. With no room left to breathe, our rocket becomes continuous. With you, a compilation of light. Is there any question to why my arms stretch as far as they do. I gravitate to you, the most beautiful chaos I've ever seen. To be the space you fill in infinite devotion. Your not just beautiful, your astonishingly out of this world. Our arms no longer by our side. We explode internally To a point We over promise too much of ourselves. In spite of how high we value ourself, We actively listen in effort. Refilling how much of ourselves we spill. I am not ashamed to admit that at times I need help. But it is in these times where I fully understand. That there won't be another you. You smile and help me realize that I never want to lose any piece of you. Stopping the spill to see how much you effect me. In reaction to a sudden action of silence. It is especially important. Where we don't have to prove anything to each other. Just knowing that you are there is enough. Just know that your love is enough. It is in these moments. I stop to think. Where would I be without you. Unimaginable She Is home for me. Anywhere she goes my heart is sure to follow. The comfort that brings about the biggest smile. Home being the first place I fell in love with. Maturing into the memory I'll always know. A place of acceptance no matter how crazy things get. This feel good feeling that erupts soon as she is near. The faster I approach. The driveway in view. To tell everyone where I am from. Where I am going. Being home is beautiful. This loving feeling, knowing that I exist inside of you. Appearing in thought, lounging around. The beginning of life spent in a warm place. You are with me every where I go. My city, my home, my warm embrace. For me, she is home i fell in love with a boy with dark blonde hair and the most beautiful blue green eyes ive ever seen in my life his smile is so bright that i swear he is a star he is the sun in my galaxy his laugh is as warm homemade chicken noodle soup; so comforting, so nice you could cry maybe it's a stretch to say that i'm in love with the way he cheers up the people around him, taking their hands and leading them into a world where you can feel safe and finally be yourself instead of wearing fake masks of happiness in order to protect those around you from the hurricane you house inside but even years of depression later, a simple five minutes with him makes me feel immeasurable happiness what's his secret? Before I knew it I ate half the bag. Fifty pounds deliciously resting the bottom of my stomach. Weighing my stomach with my hands. I tried to save some. Each piece more than the last. Resting on the coffee table of her heart. I didn't expect to eat as much as I did. A decision made in haste, I smiled. Easily reaching into my own bag. Replacing what I ate with that of my own. Her pieces taste far better than mine. Knowing that they belonged to her. My heart rejoiced in knowing this. My taste buds on the other hand longed for more. Ready to reach again. Her heart, the sweetest candy I know.

Something about this lady, giving, loving, wanting, haunting showing no pretension. Love develops more with time and separation. When it was time for you to catch me, you were gone…taking with you part of me. Types Platonic and romantic. On most days, I sol at her for a while, Never In a way that would let her know. I will ardor you forever. If you're sending mix signals, I don't want to link what I'm feeling, And later, reject, Love or infatuation poem recollect It doesn't take a lot of time-- For me to forget. This the type love referred to when talking about love between two partners, such as a boyfriend — girlfriend, husband — wife, boyfriend — boyfriend, girlfriend — girlfriend, etc. Weighing my stomach with my hands.

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released December 13, 2018

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tazonkode Atlanta, Georgia

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