Let me tell you
about this crazy dream I had
I looked over at you and smiled again
You put your head on my shoulder
We've been watching the cars pass
Through the streets of the city
Like stars falling from our galaxy
Ever have those moments when
Everything gets quiet
And my eyes felt like they opened
for the first time
And i felt music and art and poetry
for the first time
And my ears could only hear our
heart beats in sync
And your breathing
This was one of those moments
Like the first time I met you
We played connect the dots with the stars
And drew each other pictures of the future
I felt your grip get tighter around my hand
And I couldnt help but the belt out a laugh
Can you believe it?
Of all the particles of matter
And molecules of life
We slammed into each other
Like we've always been en route
For this crash.
And like two fireworks
We took the sky and stole the moment
In a wild display it took my whole life to perfect
I would do what I could to see you shine
I went through years of fuses and duds and restarts,
sparks and false starts just for this moment when
You ignite me to the potential I never knew was there
See, your best brings out my best,
And the more I can do for you will enrich me.
Your warmth is something I didn't know was possible
Until it was.
You are proof that lotteries
aren't only won in monetary jackpots
And hearts aren't only made for
Beating in a singular rhythm
But in a drum line to a symphony.
We danced in our own company
And your lips dropped breadcrumbs
across my body
So you'd find your way back up to my kiss.
I've never felt lips burn so deep like yours do
You left gulches on my neck with your breath
And dug out safe places
where you will always be welcomed.
Let me tell you
I wake up to sleep now.
Of heart breath, blood fills the pen.
Tore from mint the strain reels.
Letter of black huge style font.
To intense the effects of your mind.
Of art and grief wash out from plane.
Your our experience, held more than even change.
A limited mind has no options worth its place.
They seed our reality based on our coscience and apperal.
With grins and napkins on our laps.
Our politeness, is grace and suit and tie apprased.
For who, shall bring the golden loft of breed.
I woke up in his bed
after one of those nights we barely ever
spoke about again.
I tried to cover myself, ashamed,
blushed crimson when I saw I was wearing nothing
but my own flesh.
He just laughed softly and said:
“Baby, don’t be shy. You don’t know
how much I like you that way.”
He knew that I’m
more fat than thin, but he didn’t care
about my weight.
I loved that about him, but
I wonder if I loved him, if that night even happened,
if it was real or not. I asked myself:
Is it really love,
the comfort you find in someone else’s
arms after dusk?
Is it ever enough
to make you want to stay and make love,
and not just fuck?
Would you want to make
your bed with hundreds of rose petals
instead of thorny stems,
swim in the tears you shed at night,
or drown yourself in salt water that will
never quench your thirst?
But you love my hurt too much; you love
to make me scream for more and beg for pain, for pleasure,
and other forms of unconventional affection.
To you, it’s a lot like love.
To most people, it’s enough.
To me... not even close.
You always rise and shine
happily in the mornings, kiss me (your love slave),
untie me from the bed post.
Who could’ve imagined you were
a morning person, the kind of guy that whistles in the
kitchen while making breakfast?
You bring me something to drink, in a cup.
I hold it to my lips carefully, like it’s hot,
or holy water, or sweet venom.
You hold me in your arms, I tremble
like a scared child having nightmares; you reassure me
with your smile and kisses on my temple
and suddenly everything about you
is almost holy and you become my savior, my saint,
my confession and morning prayer.
I know the carnal pleasures
you present me with are no substitute
for God’s divine rapture
and the forbidden fruit
you make me eat at night won’t
give me total satisfaction;
that you’re the one that
caresses me with sinful hands, the hands
that lovingly punish me raw
for things I haven’t done,
for things I daren’t do, for being as devious
and sadomasochistic as you,
but I can’t help myself
from falling into the void and looking into
the abyss in your eyes,
and letting it stare back at me
with the same intensity and heat as that
of a million burning suns.
Still, I can see the hollowness beyond the blue
of your irises and the charcoal of your pupils,
pulling me in like black holes.
Because to you I’m nothing more than another
celestial body in your starry sky’s constellation of conquests,
and to me, you’re a ruthless conquistador.
I’m either Orpheus’ serenading lyre, playing
songs about all-consuming love and desire, or Aquila,
the mythical Eagle feeding off Prometheus’s liver,
because we’re star-crossed lovers,
physically attracted and serendipitously drawn to each other,
yet astrologically incompatible.
What are the odds for us to come together for one night,
for the planets to align in such a way that we’re near yet far away, without
perpendicularly intercepting or crossing orbital paths?
How did we survive the trek to outer space,
reached new heights and hit new lows with mind-blowing sex
only to land on Earth again, safely in your bed?
As you turn from rough lover to gentle, loving man,
I compare you to a werewolf turning human after the sunrise, yet
I know the transformation for you must feel brutal and unnatural.
We all should be in the company
Of beauty, of all kinds
Women are art in the form of beings
Those filled with fire,
With a soul that burns and burns
The ones who turn into music
Those who paint in dreams
Till the sun comes up
Telling stories with their movement
Dancing to the sound of the wind
Beauty & intelligence & the love of life
All in one, laying on the sand
Feeding on the wonders of the world
Capturing passion through the eyes
As the water floats over their skin
Sing to me, sing to me
Like mist upon the mountains
or twinkling stars at twilight
the silky touch of skin
gentleness, of bite
A woman has desires and wants
a man can only really, guess
what she wants, or needs
beautifully, a mess
The night moves, in mysterious ways
most of all, a woman's eyes
pools of sultry innocence
even if, their lies
The last stanza was a reply to one Petal's masterpieces :
The horse (a creature of blind passion) pawed
The earth beside the silent fallen form
A digger of graves more noble yet … more odd
Than ever I had chanced to see before
His raven mane flashed in the waning light
Which time to time broke through the pressing clouds
His nodding passion and his frothing cry
Failed in their valiant efforts to arouse
Some battle fought long since had caused the wound
That took the rider from the reins at last
And left the steed unmounted in a world
Unknown by journey or by battles past
Dark senses now compelled the ungripped beast
To travel far from sounds of master’s fray
And find some place of tranquil rest at last
Sweet reason’s constant battle’s lost this day
Unreined, unburdened, free to roam at will
The creature’s innate knowledge must prevail
To take the place of Master’s hard learned skill
And keep blind passion on an earthly trail
And I’ll forever follow down this trail
Where passion always leads the lost and least
For I have lost my Master’s voice today
And I am now this roaming, riderless beast