#1
bvlgari stoked smells, open fragrance
arbor roams, every inch
for frayed stuck sums, penniless soon
three hours for every sucking inch
moving forward so slowly
so slightly;
not sure if moving at all.

hands soaked in women's perfume,
such small awkward grasps for
liquid plumes of loathing our better halfs
staring sinks, smelling salts, our
figures of yearly allowances, visit her
twice, tell her how she's changed,
leave on the bus, the two days traveling
are the only things that didn't feel like a dream.
not sure if memories existed.
not sure if it was real.
no pictures.
no journals.
no proof.
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Last edited by Something_Vague at Mar 30, 2009,
#2
i may just be retarded (most likely situation) but i cannot quite grasp the meaning of the first word...

other than that, i kinda like it.
#3
What I took out of this is was quite brilliant. That said, a lot of it did miss me. I kinda left not sure what to think, but in a good way. I can definitely relate to;

'leave on the bus, the two days traveling
are the only things that didn't feel like a dream.'

They're stunning lines in context to the piece.
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#4
thank you, i'm glad someone noticed the obvious change in tone when that line hits, as i tried to emulate the feelings of a nostalgic dreamlike event. You fixate on odd things, that don't mean much.

overall, thank you.
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#6
I really felt this piece. Only issue: the repetition of the word "dream" bothered me. Was it left there intentionally? It broke the flow for me just as I really started rolling.