Longings

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Longings

I long to smoke cigarettes
For velvet fingers to glide along my back
Coffee stains painted on my manuscripts
Rain to celebrate outside my open windows

I long to paint words upon my walls
For the smoke of my burning incense to dance among the air
The smell of lavender and patchouli to sustain itself on my clothes
Mountains hubris to be dominant from my back porch

I long to break free 
For my music to sing along the mountain winds
The walls of my house formed from a beautiful wood
I long to smoke cigarettes

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Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

gr8lucia’s Poems (3)

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Title Comments
Longings 0
No Surprises 0
The Griffin 8