this poem is for the guys. i was reminded of an oprah episode (yeah, i saw it on Oprah and it's the TRUTH! lol!) about scents and guys preferring warm baking and earthy smells on a woman over all the flowery scents that are in the market. something filling, sensual, and satisfying about a cinnamon bun smell, or ... in this case, warm apple pie. *winks* enjoy!
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"love...NICE...spice..."
love making tastes like NICE
apples warmed in buttered cinnamon spice
sweetened with coarse brown sugar
refinement is the art of getting better
still living in the rawness of emotion
a magical elixir given in a potion
of such intensity to flavour this passion
the fruit of life in one slice
i like the love making taste of NICE...spice
tips of tongues intertwined...mmm...
how the simple pleasures do remind
of the deeper ones kept in mind
and expressed in physical kind
like apples spiced and warmed
in butter coarsely brown sugared
for palettes basely refined
on the simple things sublime
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"I'm a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket and I'm waiting for my rocket to come." - Jason Mraz