the tenderness in your folds
the secrets that you keep
the closets where i hid
to get away from him
the cinnamon babkas tickled my tongue
while your eyes smiled to hear me
mis-pronounce chicken schnitzel
through my missing front teeth
the tenderness in your folds
the secrets that you keep
the closets where i hid
to get away from him
the cinnamon babkas tickled my tongue
while your eyes smiled to hear me
mis-pronounce chicken schnitzel
through my missing front teeth
There are an awful lot of childhood secrets hidden in this little poem….
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yes Sue, some nice and some that have shaped me, but hopefully im shaped in a positive way, still a work in progress thanks for reading 🙂 lottsa love your way
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We are all, thankfully, still works in progress 🙂 It is often the darker events that shape us…and it is usually from those that we grow the most. Just think what it is in which roses grow best 😉
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Beautifully written Hon. I love you response to the photo. ❤🌼
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thanks Jen 🙂 ❤
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💜🙂 You’re always welcome
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Poeta is that place as full as melancholy as your words? Beautiful! Thanks for sharing
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obrigado Poeta, i lost my baby front teeth at around 6 or 7 and i sounded funny when i talked until the permanent teeth grew in. i thought it was a happy poem, but im thinking about my mother so i see where readers think its a little sad, thanks for reading 🙂
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