PocusCologne
Bio
I amPocusCologne.
Stories (2)
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The sly, the slick and the broken
How do I find myself hearing our personal matters amongst lips who have not known your soft full lips, and the taste of mango you always seem to have in any lipstick or chapstick. From people who have not felt my embrace tightly exposing my soul with strong emotional contact of our eyes, speaking volumes silently, behind the rapid beating of our hearts. Soft to heavy breathing finding it's rhythm we find ourselves outside of time itself. A special meeting, a location fleeting for hearts as ours; Tattered and in pieces in the chest like puzzle pieces in a box. That always seems to bring out the defense, but where we are now, the walls begin to fall.
By PocusCologne4 years ago in Poets
High Five Green Guy
A melody of wonderment dances with alluring aromas of temptation. Creates new thought, one that enthralls the senses yet brings fourth nostalgia of days of old. We all know the language of music, some hear it, some feel it. Then there's others who can see it, not music though.... No not the notes. These people can see the vibrations, the frequencies they can see the color your heart beats. To these people the earth itself sings a silent tune. Our hearts keep a steady beat even when it speeds up and slows down. So what does it mean to these people when a heart skips a beat?
By PocusCologne4 years ago in Fiction
