Scents of Good Sense

Could it be possible to tell,
if somehow abstinence had a smell?

And if so,
is the fragrance sweet
or does it have an aroma of a challenge
men are unwilling to meet?

Often I've heard that sex you could sell,
but I've never been enlightened on whether
virtue had an ability to repel.

When the entrance into the love below
is no longer easily permissible,
does it make one overlooked
or possibly invisible?

See, don't get it twisted
the passions within still ablaze,
and the skills acquired
will leave him amazed.

And yes,
he'll be wanting
more and more
for days and days
to come..

But sexing is just exercise
when it's not done
with that very special someONE.

And I'm not sure if purity
will make it hard on one to date,
but when your vagina is valuable
be prepared and willing to wait...

And to stink--
with a stench
of patience and self control,
because that's what it smells like
when you're being made whole.

So if you're like me
and in their eyes you've become a skunk,
then please don't be ashamed
to embrace your funk.

An artist

I'm an artist..
which means I'm prone to love deeply,
and though I haven't yet found him
the desire for discovery takes place discreetly.

Receptive towards being found,
and if you give me a moment on that
I'll further expound.

I'm an artist..
so that means I embody the attitude of an alchemist,
always took delight in sharing the process
seeing the possibilities in the what others may miss.

A soul ready to surrender
to creative collaborations,
becoming one another's muse
simultaneously emanating inspirations.

I'm an artist..
willing to get lost just to step into the unknown,
living the adventure called life
yet no longer wanting to do it on my own.

There's a greater return when the one becomes two,
tenacity strengthened with every instance we stay true.
And that's why I poetically give of my gift,
speaking my hopes into the world so one day
they may exist.

I'm an artist..
a poet with a canvas and a painter with a pen,
writing pictures and drawing poems
until the heavens bring he and I together once again.

One Minute

Rehearsed what I would say
but silence left my lips.
Breezing like the wind,
yet wondering
why a girl like me just could not win.

Full of great intent
yet fear kept me content,
in a routine of nothingness.
Now I sit front row witnessing his bliss.

We get the choice.
And I heard the heavens saying that he was for me.

Fate pushed but I ran the other way,
Told myself that I could make a so-so situation okay.
Delay,
in what was obviously a relay for his affection.

Melancholy of a fool,
arriving a minute too late
because I had to keep my rep of playing it cool.
Or so I thought.

Love is blind--
I couldn't see.
I couldn't see.
I could not see.

And now my eyes won't shut
because he's more beautiful than I could have ever thought.
My fault--
immaturity doesn't readily heed the wise counsels advice,
so now I wish that those who knew what I didn't;
that they would have pushed me twice.

Gone in 60 seconds
made me fully aware that,
any moment beyond the whispers instruction
is potential for new love's destruction.