tricia-rhonda-tan - Hello Poetry

She says, Smile more He says, Look you got to freak out a little less And I wait They say if you’re quiet enough, You start to hear your own voice I can’t decide if that’s a good thing He picks me up and I dumb myself down Rinses me down while I size myself up Width is still one word I can’t say without biting my tongue too much at the end

0

Mar 20, 2015

Mar 20, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC

how much more?

She says, Smile more He says, Look you got to freak out a little less And I wait They say if you’re quiet enough, You start to hear your own voice I can’t decide if that’s a good thing He picks me up and I dumb myself down Rinses me down while I size myself up Width is still one word I can’t say without biting my tongue too much at the end

11

He is a head and a half taller than me and I have memorized this from the way his eyes are always downcast, and I, Am always reaching for the hot, wet peak of his tongue There is a dull pain in my neck but it shies in comparison to the dormant ache, Asleep between my thighs With calculated moves he stirs it to a raging fire Even when I swear there’s enough humidity in the room to blanket this desire He licks his lips, and they are the semi-perfect shade of vermillion glossed over with evil intent And he swivels me around and whispers, turn around, when his body is already draped across the arch of mine And in this moment, being this close, friction is enough to **** me

0

Mar 20, 2015

Mar 20, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC

dancing with light

He is a head and a half taller than me and I have memorized this from the way his eyes are always downcast, and I, Am always reaching for the hot, wet peak of his tongue There is a dull pain in my neck but it shies in comparison to the dormant ache, Asleep between my thighs With calculated moves he stirs it to a raging fire Even when I swear there’s enough humidity in the room to blanket this desire He licks his lips, and they are the semi-perfect shade of vermillion glossed over with evil intent And he swivels me around and whispers, turn around, when his body is already draped across the arch of mine And in this moment, being this close, friction is enough to **** me

10

My lover saves his words, he tucks them under his tongue I chew on his serifs, Aerated, punctuated, hyphenated His desires, they get caught in my teeth the boldness of them wearing on my enamel And then, his smile melts onto my tongue I push it behind my cheek, our own little secret, sweetheart Now I’m smiling too And he hasn’t said a word.

0

Mar 20, 2015

Mar 20, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC

Shyness

My lover saves his words, he tucks them under his tongue I chew on his serifs, Aerated, punctuated, hyphenated His desires, they get caught in my teeth the boldness of them wearing on my enamel And then, his smile melts onto my tongue I push it behind my cheek, our own little secret, sweetheart Now I’m smiling too And he hasn’t said a word.

12

The cracks in his palm give me just enough room to slip into them Waist deep Sandwiched between hot flesh And oxygenated blood From all the breaths he stole from my lungs We love with open mouths and open limbs What we do is more than just a fist slamming against a palm It is not dirt I gather under my fingernails But the primal way we learnt to stake our claim I am digging into muscle You are drilling into bone

0

Mar 20, 2015

Mar 20, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC

The Act

The cracks in his palm give me just enough room to slip into them Waist deep Sandwiched between hot flesh And oxygenated blood From all the breaths he stole from my lungs We love with open mouths and open limbs What we do is more than just a fist slamming against a palm It is not dirt I gather under my fingernails But the primal way we learnt to stake our claim I am digging into muscle You are drilling into bone

11

Who are we kidding when we place a bottle to our lips and try to call it a marriage of some sort the last thing I remember a straw between my teeth then your ear in its place fast forward to me counting the steps to your door 1, 2, 3.. 6.. 14..25 I was barely 13 before I was taught love was a call to arms, not a veritable verb you told me it was good enough holding it in my palm and really I should’ve known when every attempt at romance was nothing above a whisper how I was your best kept secret at 15 at 19, I still unravel under the influence my cup is empty from the nights I gave you so much it tumbled into the morning after but all that was left to grab at was your hair on my pillow, you were spontaneous like that, weren’t you? and I, hey, why won’t you just lighten up? You fancied flight and I only wanted the pebbles crushed beneath my plimsolls telling me all I ever needed to know, that the smallest only get stifled more and before I knew it I was a crushed up beer can, insides still wet *god **** it* coursing real liquid in real time just so I could live to love you and you tell me, sobriety hurts like I’m only beautiful when I’m a blur oh sweetheart, if only you knew how pretty your eyes were before they rolled to the back of your head, and sweetheart, I hope you make it home tonight. and that home, is you retching on the floor, on your knees because that’s where you liked me best.

0

Mar 20, 2015

Mar 20, 2015 at 1:33 PM UTC

what the young teaches the younger

Who are we kidding when we place a bottle to our lips and try to call it a marriage of some sort the last thing I remember a straw between my teeth then your ear in its place fast forward to me counting the steps to your door 1, 2, 3.. 6.. 14..25 I was barely 13 before I was taught love was a call to arms, not a veritable verb you told me it was good enough holding it in my palm and really I should’ve known when every attempt at romance was nothing above a whisper how I was your best kept secret at 15 at 19, I still unravel under the influence my cup is empty from the nights I gave you so much it tumbled into the morning after but all that was left to grab at was your hair on my pillow, you were spontaneous like that, weren’t you? and I, hey, why won’t you just lighten up? You fancied flight and I only wanted the pebbles crushed beneath my plimsolls telling me all I ever needed to know, that the smallest only get stifled more and before I knew it I was a crushed up beer can, insides still wet *god **** it* coursing real liquid in real time just so I could live to love you and you tell me, sobriety hurts like I’m only beautiful when I’m a blur oh sweetheart, if only you knew how pretty your eyes were before they rolled to the back of your head, and sweetheart, I hope you make it home tonight. and that home, is you retching on the floor, on your knees because that’s where you liked me best.

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