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Poetry By: moonphish

not really about an appendix

Submitted:Mar 27, 2012    Reads: 8    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   

though the guy had no appendix

she could read him like a book
her kisses made him babble
like a simple country brook
her fingers were a seismograph
and measured how he shook
her image burned his retinas
each time he dared to look
starred in all his nighttime movies
plus his dreaming in the day
the sparkle of her glances
were like fireworks on display
she is the diamond in his coal bin
she's the needle in his hay
she is the drummer of his heart beat
she's the molder of his clay
she is the wind that makes him shiver
she's the sun that makes him sweat
other girls he can't remember
she's the one he can't forget
his whole world he will gamble
for he knows she's worth the bet
but the oddest thing about it all ?
he hasn't met her yet


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