Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click hereShe paints
blue ballpoint tattoos
across my arm, feigns graffiti
monograms in honor of
hours that die every day,
but that gets no parade.
What is it now, the year of the monkey,
or the platypus, perhaps? she sings.
Yes, sings, every syllable a note,
it's just the way the sounds roll. Fearless,
delinquent in their own right, conscious of
purpose, the only way she knows speech.
She paints blue
ballerina notions
across my mind's scenery,
silly little swirls I will never forget,
projectile seeds in the wind, always with
such an alien purpose, the only way
she knows reason.
There's a method to the madness,
a certain melody in a lost super harmony
that I'll probably scout and sharpen my years
for years to come to identify,
but until then,
she paints
blue ballpoint pen tattoos,
and plant white lilies in my window
although she knows they won't last
a winter. There's a method
to that madness too, but I'll leave that
for another day.
One enigma at the time.
several times ...and each time I find something different and interesting...takes many avenues for me..I enjoy re reading this ty..blue
*** I love it Liar. ***
You paint a beautiful picture of yesterdays tomorrow's and leave us with a smile that last a lifetime. Sentimental lil journey here and how I do love'm!! Love your dreamy images.
Please give us more !!!!!
and that would be? ...interesting poetry (~_~)