Like the purest sand brushing the tips of my porcelain fingers.
White as snow,
Hot as hell.
I catch your scent in gusts of wind,
Cinnamon, like your skin.
The blue of your eyes lingers behind the clouds.
Whirling, twisting,
Lighter, darker.
You are everywhere.
The cream swirling in my coffee mug,
The whisper of the leaves as they escape the trees.
The click of keys and the punch of the spacebar
Tip, tap,
clack.
Though muddied in a puddle,
Your reflection still clearer than my own.
I search for you in seas of people
And forget to swim myself.
You suffocate me.
You resuscitate me.

Breathe you in.

Breathe you out.

Your voice,
It’s the melody that harmonizes perfectly with mine.
Your touch, the very thought of it-
It kills me.
Rips me.
Destroys me.
Come back.
Be who you used to be,
Love me.
Use me.
Rebuild me.

Anticipation is a curious concept.
You wait and wait and wait
For whatever it is that destroys your innate ability to sit still.
Preparations are made,
Plans are confirmed and then-

And then it comes.

And then it goes.

Practically in the same instant.
And I'm forced to wonder,
All that time I spent before it happened,
All those hours, minutes, seconds,
Filled with nothing but thoughts of what was to come,

Were they wasted?

Can you count on time that you haven't yet counted?

Have you ever felt

awfully overlooked

as

if

eyes see through you

as

if

never seeing you at all

slip your subtle simplicities into my tea
so I can sip you in all morning long

the way your words caress my body
will forever be more sensual than what your hands could ever be capable

pitter patter of my heart
rhythm stop, rhythm start.

brush my skin, hear me sigh,
dripping lust, here where we lie.

your eyes soft, but also cruel,
your hands fire, my body fuel.

night was hell bent, but also well spent,
you knew no care, so I didn't dare,

so for tonight I'll let you take me,
well aware sunrise will break me.

And in the midst of my impenetrable winter,
I found within you my eternal spring.