I'm making love to myself.

In ways you never could,
Never would,
And bringing pleasure.

I haven't hit the peak yet,
But you never got me there either;

And at least this way
I'm going somewhere.

I have shattered love
every time is was close enough
to touch

my heart, rented out to anyone
who could fill it

just for a second

just for a minute to not  
feel the emptiness

that lingers in the pit of my stomach

like the last leaf of Autumn,
clings desperately to the branch
of a bare tree

but love left no time to linger

it ran like water
between my fingers

until the puddle of heartbreak
was deep enough to drown in

It's taken me years
Of writing and reading,
Living,
Giving and receiving,
Love
To realise;
Love is simple
It's humans
That are complicated

let us
do only all the things we wish we could, if our lust and love was not so secret.

not just dream but see, touch and taste the mossy nectar of our wavy
pinkish, glistening seas
above and
beneath an ocean of silken sheets.

-By Alexandra Eames