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Thursday, 9 June 2016

Poem: Situational Infactuation




Just one sip,
From your lip's tip,
To mute the words,
That shouldnt escape my vocal cords.

Just one touch,
And my senses lurch;
Into unspeakable sensations,
Beyond imaginations.

Just one glance,
To set ablaze,
A dead soul,
Within a stony shell.

Only you have the power,
Beyond the witching hour,
To turn situations,
Into infactuations. 

Copyright © 2016 thearcticstar




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