Fancy tea parties. In good taste. Exit. Pinky out into the air. Monocle. Heads head high. Bright bald heads. Coat Tails trailing behind while wandering a high class party.
The taste of things you never thought you’d really enjoy, women, wine, or pool water. The feel of your first dive into the water gives you the idea of entering a new world. The taste of dreams, that’s what it is.
The sun looked like a big egg yolk slapped smack dab into the middle of the sky. Greer pulls on her shades and tries to remember if she had applied the UVA or UVB or UV-whatever fountain of youth salves on her face, lips and neck that would keep her from looking old before her time. Or looking old at all. Ever.
“Damn, it’s hot,” a guy standing next to her on the Metro platform says in her general direction. Which ticked her off. Don’t natter on about very obvious nothings while the big ball of fire in the sky whittles away at her exquisite beauty and consequently her life. Greer puts him on mental mute while she envisions the cracks and creases settling in on her cheeks and forehead. And around her eyes.
The train pulls into the station, throws open its doors with bings and bongs and she waits for its occupants to disembark. They take their time about it. Sigh.
It isn’t until she is inside seated and the doors have slammed shut does Greer realize there is no air conditioning.
“Ain’t this about a bitch?!” she mumbled as her bare legs immediately stick to the seat.
Her scalp starts to sweat, so along with a face morphing into a piece of beef jerky, her hair would be reverting back to its African-ness in 5, 4, 3, 2 – WHOOSH! At least that’s the sound Greer imagines her hair making as it gives up trying to be straight and just rolls up into a tightly coiled knot on her head.
Train platform guy squeezes his ass in next to her and smiles.
“From the frying pan into the fire, right?” he says, ignoring Greer’s “get away from me peasant boy” look and attitude.
“Dude, it’s too hot for teeheeing and kiki-ing,” Greer says. “Move on.”
The first thing I think of is food.
Exquisite tender French Food. I tried liver cooked at home yesterday and it was alright.
But I bet if I go to France they would have ‘exquisite’ duck liver that will melt me in seconds.
I cannot wait until I get a chance to go to Paris, France.
To enjoy the ambiance.
To enjoy the company that I am with.
oceans, mountains, life, everything about life and how we deal with it. emotions beauty, art, passion in its truest form. Theatre.. Love. Being loved and loving someone with all your heart. That is exquisite. Happiness in its simplest form. Family.
you look into the eyes, they eyes of mine. they taunt back. giggle, oh the giggle. remorse. none of that reflects, eyes, remorse, taunt. smile through, the light, bright.
You’re exquisite. You’re amazing way in making me feel like I’m alive and breathing. You’re amazing way of ignoring the hateful comments and the ability you have to show them that’s its not true. You’re amazing. Exotic. Different and Fantastic
“you have an exquisite ass” said the man at the store as he passed by the veggies on a Sunday afternoon. Then he walked on and asked her “if she had a man” She said “No” they left together to fuck in the streets!
the sound of your voice is exquisite to me. when yo say hi or only look at me i feel special. eqxquisite is little to describe how your voice sounds. it makes my heart beat 10000 times faster.
There was the taste. The warmth. The sun. It came over me like a wave, on a hot Summer sand. The wind was wild, and fed my imagination as I passed from dimension to dimension in exqusite delight. I took a deep breathe, and took my place with mother Earth, melting into the universe.
grapefruit fresh off the tree. a ripe peach. her round buttocks in jeans. my hard cock you can see through mine, if that’s what you’re looking for. Van Goh for some, Bach for others and some of the same. Dali, Pollock and John Coltrane (in his later years) for the braver souls. your ability to look in around and through something and deem it worthy or unworthy of praise. it is or it isn’t. either it’s evil (and not even so much evil as uninteresting), or its, as Ginsberg would suggest, HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY…
“Such an exquisite cake” She said pulling up her monocle.
“OH, Quite Quite” She replied to herself hastily moving to the chair across her while stroking a fake mustache.
“What the hell are you doing?” Lie said looking at her from the doorway.
“Hey man. I just want to have a tea party. Don’t judge. ” the girl said continuing to stroke her mustache while putting her plastic monocle back in her pocket.
Exquisite my darling, that is how I see you from the champagne glass glittering before me. You are the rose scented, delicious nectar that soothes my soul… My dearest David.
i don’t know what’s more exquisite – the idea of something beautiful, or actually seeing it. sometimes you can imagine something in a much better way than you can actually see it. like love. until you have it for real, isn’t it more exquisite to just imagine how it could be?
Love. Beauty. The face of a woman.
The face of your love, with no makeup on, curled up beside you.
You know her.
You know her beauty.
And she is all yours.
Forever.
The sanctity of marriage.
The beauty of a woman.
That you can call your own.
Forever.
exquisite. hmm. it for some reason always reminds me of France. I’m not quite sure why. Exquisite describes a delectable food, that the taste explodes in your mouth. Or a stunning girl you see from afar, through the crowd of people. Exquisite is something to the point of being indescribable.
very nice. she flowed like water from a glass, like speech from the mouth. Waltzing her way through the doorways of sanity leaving a trail of peddles behind. Never stopped or told where to go. The tide pushing and pulling like the strings of a marionette,
beauty, colors. a woman walks through the door hair flowing, red lips swollen. there’s no need for clothes here, we’re all the same. take a deep breath, exhale on the exit. there’s not a thing in the world to say.she leaves.
the human being that you fall in love with. the sky outside my window. my family. the love that i share with everything that matters to me in my short existence on this earth. everything in my eyes that makes me think wonder and want to live and learn. beauty, sadness, and everything in between.
Exquisite. The smell of her shampoo. The colour of her eyes. Her smile. Everything about her. But he would never tell her. How could he, when he was, for lack of better word, “friend-zoned”?
Pain is exquisite. I know that poeple tend to use the term to describe things that are luxurious and rich and opulescent, but no – anyone with money can have those things. Exquisite, uniquely crafted. Rare. There is nothing more rare that your personal pain. As much as people may empathize and sympathize with your ordeal, your pain is exclusively, unreplicably, singularly yours.
She had a pretty face, and a normal body. From far away, she’d look just like any other 20 year old. But everyone who met her thought that she was the most exquisite thing they’d ever seen. And no one could say exactly why.
food and five star hotels are exquisite, its luxurious, special, fun. sometimes overpriced. entertaining, feel-good factor. interesting. overrated sometimes.
Fancy tea parties. In good taste. Exit. Pinky out into the air. Monocle. Heads head high. Bright bald heads. Coat Tails trailing behind while wandering a high class party.
The taste of things you never thought you’d really enjoy, women, wine, or pool water. The feel of your first dive into the water gives you the idea of entering a new world. The taste of dreams, that’s what it is.
exquisite re his lips against my thigh…the smell of cinnamon in my mind as we soar thru places untread before this moment
your smile, the creases in your mouth, the luminosity in your eyes,
the dance of our hearts and the understanding of our minds…exquisite.
it related to beautiful amazing wonderful colorful
you are beautiful
The sun looked like a big egg yolk slapped smack dab into the middle of the sky. Greer pulls on her shades and tries to remember if she had applied the UVA or UVB or UV-whatever fountain of youth salves on her face, lips and neck that would keep her from looking old before her time. Or looking old at all. Ever.
“Damn, it’s hot,” a guy standing next to her on the Metro platform says in her general direction. Which ticked her off. Don’t natter on about very obvious nothings while the big ball of fire in the sky whittles away at her exquisite beauty and consequently her life. Greer puts him on mental mute while she envisions the cracks and creases settling in on her cheeks and forehead. And around her eyes.
The train pulls into the station, throws open its doors with bings and bongs and she waits for its occupants to disembark. They take their time about it. Sigh.
It isn’t until she is inside seated and the doors have slammed shut does Greer realize there is no air conditioning.
“Ain’t this about a bitch?!” she mumbled as her bare legs immediately stick to the seat.
Her scalp starts to sweat, so along with a face morphing into a piece of beef jerky, her hair would be reverting back to its African-ness in 5, 4, 3, 2 – WHOOSH! At least that’s the sound Greer imagines her hair making as it gives up trying to be straight and just rolls up into a tightly coiled knot on her head.
Train platform guy squeezes his ass in next to her and smiles.
“From the frying pan into the fire, right?” he says, ignoring Greer’s “get away from me peasant boy” look and attitude.
“Dude, it’s too hot for teeheeing and kiki-ing,” Greer says. “Move on.”
The first thing I think of is food.
Exquisite tender French Food. I tried liver cooked at home yesterday and it was alright.
But I bet if I go to France they would have ‘exquisite’ duck liver that will melt me in seconds.
I cannot wait until I get a chance to go to Paris, France.
To enjoy the ambiance.
To enjoy the company that I am with.
feel eloquent of course but eloquence is like a mask, an exquisite mask, a proper mask that hides who you are
Elegant, one of a kind, cute, adorable, detailed, amazing, precise, and desirable.
the flavor
of your kisses
it’s like a bit of your soul
the sky over us
you and me
always together
i’ll love you
piece of sky
“You have an exquisite ass,” said a voice from behind her.
Tramping around her in stilettos she turned around, intent on giving the sexist pig a slap across the face.
Instead, he was standing there.
amazing, beautiful, exceptional, perfect, great, fine, high class, well good, above average, pretty
Chanel. fashion in general is exquisite. It is art. Art is exquisite. more people need to embrace and create art!
oceans, mountains, life, everything about life and how we deal with it. emotions beauty, art, passion in its truest form. Theatre.. Love. Being loved and loving someone with all your heart. That is exquisite. Happiness in its simplest form. Family.
you look into the eyes, they eyes of mine. they taunt back. giggle, oh the giggle. remorse. none of that reflects, eyes, remorse, taunt. smile through, the light, bright.
“Shes got an exquisite ass.”
“know, look how it moves from side to side when she walks.”
“I know, God Damn.”
the feeling that comes when eyes are set upon the thing they’ve always been looking for. All this to vanish.
You’re exquisite. You’re amazing way in making me feel like I’m alive and breathing. You’re amazing way of ignoring the hateful comments and the ability you have to show them that’s its not true. You’re amazing. Exotic. Different and Fantastic
“you have an exquisite ass” said the man at the store as he passed by the veggies on a Sunday afternoon. Then he walked on and asked her “if she had a man” She said “No” they left together to fuck in the streets!
the sound of your voice is exquisite to me. when yo say hi or only look at me i feel special. eqxquisite is little to describe how your voice sounds. it makes my heart beat 10000 times faster.
There was the taste. The warmth. The sun. It came over me like a wave, on a hot Summer sand. The wind was wild, and fed my imagination as I passed from dimension to dimension in exqusite delight. I took a deep breathe, and took my place with mother Earth, melting into the universe.
grapefruit fresh off the tree. a ripe peach. her round buttocks in jeans. my hard cock you can see through mine, if that’s what you’re looking for. Van Goh for some, Bach for others and some of the same. Dali, Pollock and John Coltrane (in his later years) for the braver souls. your ability to look in around and through something and deem it worthy or unworthy of praise. it is or it isn’t. either it’s evil (and not even so much evil as uninteresting), or its, as Ginsberg would suggest, HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY…
my feelings towards you.
whether it is right or worng…
definitely wrong.
simply exquisite.
perfections twin brother.
“Such an exquisite cake” She said pulling up her monocle.
“OH, Quite Quite” She replied to herself hastily moving to the chair across her while stroking a fake mustache.
“What the hell are you doing?” Lie said looking at her from the doorway.
“Hey man. I just want to have a tea party. Don’t judge. ” the girl said continuing to stroke her mustache while putting her plastic monocle back in her pocket.
Exquisite my darling, that is how I see you from the champagne glass glittering before me. You are the rose scented, delicious nectar that soothes my soul… My dearest David.
blah blah blah
hey you are not exquisite
something mind blowing amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i don’t know what’s more exquisite – the idea of something beautiful, or actually seeing it. sometimes you can imagine something in a much better way than you can actually see it. like love. until you have it for real, isn’t it more exquisite to just imagine how it could be?
Love. Beauty. The face of a woman.
The face of your love, with no makeup on, curled up beside you.
You know her.
You know her beauty.
And she is all yours.
Forever.
The sanctity of marriage.
The beauty of a woman.
That you can call your own.
Forever.
exquisite. hmm. it for some reason always reminds me of France. I’m not quite sure why. Exquisite describes a delectable food, that the taste explodes in your mouth. Or a stunning girl you see from afar, through the crowd of people. Exquisite is something to the point of being indescribable.
very nice. she flowed like water from a glass, like speech from the mouth. Waltzing her way through the doorways of sanity leaving a trail of peddles behind. Never stopped or told where to go. The tide pushing and pulling like the strings of a marionette,
beauty, colors. a woman walks through the door hair flowing, red lips swollen. there’s no need for clothes here, we’re all the same. take a deep breath, exhale on the exit. there’s not a thing in the world to say.she leaves.
the human being that you fall in love with. the sky outside my window. my family. the love that i share with everything that matters to me in my short existence on this earth. everything in my eyes that makes me think wonder and want to live and learn. beauty, sadness, and everything in between.
Exquisite. The smell of her shampoo. The colour of her eyes. Her smile. Everything about her. But he would never tell her. How could he, when he was, for lack of better word, “friend-zoned”?
I wish I were this – maybe it’s the whole self esteem thing that has me thinking so negatively. I am not feeling well today.
Pain is exquisite. I know that poeple tend to use the term to describe things that are luxurious and rich and opulescent, but no – anyone with money can have those things. Exquisite, uniquely crafted. Rare. There is nothing more rare that your personal pain. As much as people may empathize and sympathize with your ordeal, your pain is exclusively, unreplicably, singularly yours.
She had a pretty face, and a normal body. From far away, she’d look just like any other 20 year old. But everyone who met her thought that she was the most exquisite thing they’d ever seen. And no one could say exactly why.
Diamond beach, a place for the rich and the richer to loll in the sun and fry skin until they have melanoma
food and five star hotels are exquisite, its luxurious, special, fun. sometimes overpriced. entertaining, feel-good factor. interesting. overrated sometimes.