#1
This is still being reworked...
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Yellow satin, with an off white skin tone,
We hold hands, and silently nestle,
In a place we spot from across the road.

Our hands melt in zero degree weather,
An event thats not fabled, for I have seen it.
It was amusing, that we watched it together.

Her lips were stained with vanilla ice cream,
It was funny, even,
That perhaps at that moment the world might melt,
And fall off its cone.
Though, on that day I felt like sticking together,
So I tightened all our screws and all our bones.

When the sun glares, I glare back.
If I were you I would not try,
To walk in the sunshine's shadow.
If I were you, I would not try it.

Well, it didn't even appear the cone was empty,
I thought it was half full, but she said "No",
And to paraphrase the conversation,
She went on to say, "...It most certainly is not."

Her lips were stained with vanilla ice cream,
It was funny, even,
That perhaps at that moment the world might melt,
And fall off its cone.
Though, on that day I felt like sticking together,
So I tightened all our screws and all our bones.

Anonymous bleached teeth, caressing,
A silken and milky, pale neck.
This place, it still feels so familiar.
It does remind me of vanilla.
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#2
Very good!

I'm not too sure what kind of genre you were going for with this piece (or is it just a poem?)

Excellent word choice, good phrasing and voice.

9/10

Mind looking at either of mine? Their in my sigs
#3
Sure bud, Ill take a look.

And thanks for the kind words. Its actually a song. I like alternative/experimental/art rock.
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