What is your lust,
without your love?
A hard shell of midnight exchanges.
A fine night of passion, with a lingering question of reality.
Is this all that is to offer?
Or is your heart in there somewhere?
Yes, my eyes may brighten with a single touch from those heavy hands.
But my heart, it illuminates at the sound of your laugh.
And at the sight of your smile, I'm satisfied for days.
Your vacant attempts at shallow compliments keep me craving more.
Is there more?
Is this all that I'll ever hold on to?
For now, my heart will impatiently wait for that laugh that illuminates my heart.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 2:23 AM UTC
The way my heart beats
as I look over and see your
face,
lit by nothing but the inconsistent
flickering of that
street light.
It’s as if it is ready to leap
straight through my chest.
Our skin, still lingers with the scent of rich espresso.
A scent that my brain will forever connect with, you.
The outline of your arms are forever etched into my memory,
leaving my fingertips numb at our departure.
Your rugged hands trace their way across my fragile body
like wanderers in the night,
we come,
and we search,
for a happiness, and a peace.
A peace that I have come to crave.
As smoke consumes my lungs, exhalation has never been so bitter.
My brain struggles to believe any of this is reality
and ever so swiftly, my body, your body, draws me back to
now.
And it is a touch that I crave to never end.
A touch that has made me feel again, made me believe again, made me desire again.
So, until the bitterness consumes my soul,
I will feel
I will believe
and I will desire
so immensely for your touch,
for your rugged hands to trace my body.
And for my ever-so-numb fingertips to never fade.
Let lust forever be the name between our lips.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 2:13 AM UTC
Whiskey kissed lips
a forever favorite.
Though love is not
an attainable goal,
I will let the lips,
stained with liquor,
whisper vacantly
the beautiful things
that please my heart.
Time will tell of a love,
so tragic,
between the two souls,
that should have never
intertwined.
But for now let us sink,
back into that warm place of security.
Fiery passion may not last in love.
But the whiskey kissed lips,
make this foreshadowed tragedy,
sound irresistibly sweet.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC