She’s a sun-kissed
Yellow peach—
Strolling on
Beach Boulevard
with a
smooth rhythm to
her feet.
Honey in her cheeks,
Tender when she speaks
and
the gloss on her
lips glisten
like
polished rubies.
She’s sweet like
Hennessy
with cranberry.
Warm skin
the color of chai tea.
The moon melts
at the
sight of
my muse.
How could one refuse her?
She’s
Sunday afternoons
listening to the
blues.
Mar 3, 2025
Mar 3, 2025 at 8:30 PM UTC
Let's talk
love
under these
duvet sheets, boy.
You'll see what I
mean.
We'll
kiss and nibble
on each other's
needs.
F*ck out our
wildest fantasies
and forget the pleasantries.
I'll trace my
nails across
your pink
lips
just as long
as you tell me,
please.
Sweet talkin and
my sweet voice
I won't hesitate to
make you mine, boy.
But we can be
patient,
and I can keep
waiting;
for now, I'll just keep
laying under these
duvet sheets while you
push yourself up
against me and
kiss my forehead
to sleep.
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 1:24 PM UTC
the mad woman shot the bare black sky & said “please, goddess of light, can death spring a thousand red rose petals in my blue dreams?”
Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 10:23 PM UTC
strands of my hair
tangle around your fingers.
you're pulling on the strings
of my mind.
so delicate
with your touch.
it reminds me of
sunday mornings
making love.
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 11:18 PM UTC