A/N- You can almost smell the sad gay this poem is soaked in. Oops.
I lit an incense today.
In that, I once again met Smoke.
Smoke is a beautiful girl.
I have loved her my whole life.
Whether we come together from a cigarette or a fire,
She always leaves her smell on me as a memory of her visit.
Today, I tried to confess.
I offered my hand to her.
I wished to dance
To Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto in D Major,
My favorite of his works.
When we made contact,
She dissolved.
She apologized, but it's okay.
Instead, she swarmed my senses,
Making my numbed brain buzz.
Her shape curled in dazzling ringlets,
And we began to dance around each other.
Smoke surrounded me,
Swirling and spiraling, spreading to each corner of my soul.
But soon, the incense will go out
And Smoke and I will part once more.
But I love her
And her smell lingers
As a reminder that she loves me.
Songs-
Violin Concerto in D Minor op. 35- Tchaikovsky
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Sam Glaspy's Poetry
PoetrySam Glaspy's sad and gay poetry about her stupid dumb life. Welcome to hell, loves! WE DID IT Y'ALL- #5 IN SYNESTHESIA AFTER ONLY TEN VOTES THAT REALLY TELLS YOU HOW LITTLE PEOPLE WRITE ABOUT IT BUT IM STILL PROUD OF US!
