Monday, August 8, 2011

These Days

These Days

These days I'm a servant
Of your unique scent

Conscious gathering words
To describe your face

Wishing longer and slow motion frames
The pleasure and no measure
Of these days...

When we touched each other's hands again
The "old feeling" like the jazzman said

Breaks into the scene
Rewinded on my thoughts

Thoughts that always flows towards you
You and your crystal ebony eyes

Nothing like mine whose just stare
The smooth curves that drives me insane

Yes madam, I revere these days...

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