I've always been cold until I visited the Far East and you pranced into my life like a wild gazelle in the grasslands. I've always been cold until you laid your head on my chest while you fell asleep and the aroma of your cocoa brown hair intoxicated me to the point of snores and the most pleasant dreams I've ever had. I've always been cold until you wrapped your arm around my stomach and I could feel your veins circulating on the contours of my abdomen. I've always been cold until you looked at me with your macchiato eyes and my state of matter went from solid to liquid as I tried to construct myself back together like an artist sculpting an ice statue outside in the middle of May in Mexico. I've always been cold until your kiss electrified my lips like an underwater eel and I felt 12,000 watts circulate my body bringing to attention every cell that flows within my valves. I've always been cold like an iceberg near the Antarctic and nothing's ever changed that. Nothing except for you. Thank you for being my fireplace in the middle of an ice cold winter. Thank you for being my heat.
Ever so boiling!
Too hot to handle!
I can't stand this heat!
I need a drink of water!
Something nice and cool!
Something ice cold!
© Jordan Dean "Mystery" Ezekude
The heat is coming down
Like a car playing chicken
Except all you can do is stand there and get hit
Over and over again
Until it merges with your skin, your body
It stays with you like a second skin
Like some sort of sickness
Water is your pain reliever
Air conditioning is but a temporary cure
Because as soon as you leave
The heat is right outside
Waiting for you.
I wonder is love
this volcanic eruption
of sensation in my lungs?
Butterflies falling to the pits
flying opposite of alive
drowning in my lava
so pretty when they die.
A passionate flame is born
sweeping them under like a raging storm
fire burning throughout my skin
sending ecstasy and shock waves within
if this is love, sweet God in Heaven
where has it been?
the air is so thick that even your thoughts melt away
in the Southern heat. sweat starts pouring until your
clothes start clinging to you like an unwanted lover. heat and sweat seperates the true Southerners from the wannabe's,
who don't truly love a place even when it's too damn hot.
She's a bombshell just waiting to explode.
The way she beckons me over to the steaming bath; both nude.
no where to hide, keeping nothing from one another.
She pulls me in, I take the plunge, falling further than before.
It's hot, frighteningly so, but I trust her.
She's hot, her skin used to the heat, softer than animal fur.
We kiss as the steam trails off of us.
The water rushes over me and I try not to make a fuss.
The bath is almost scolding hot and she feels like lava.
She feels my discomfort but holds me tighter, harder.
I know it's not because she wants me to feel the pain.
It's the only way she can get me used to heats domain.
Then I lift her out, light headed and liable to fall.
We collapse to a towel, our kissing and loving never coming to a crawl.
The steam and heat escapes our glistening bodies, so comforting.
I cradle her in my arms, sharing what heat remains yet is reeling.
Before our loving does stop and we feel the cold air around us.
Chilled, we don't get dressed, but jump back in out of lust...
I was more used to it this time.