Anxious
Dull, a boy is he
names he would not plea
eyes like baby blue-
lips a crimson hue
Feelings like me and you

Reclusive
Outsiders he'd not choose
In his mansions he bore
luring himself-
with enchanting lore's
drifting away, loosing woes

A Xenos
Traveling in his hallways
unknown, ominous
a wretched life he portrays
even in his heart, he'd say-
"Loneliness, such a Cliché"

Forsaken
Befriended, unseen
though he's not a devil
-for I believe
tortured, battered on thee
delude by his mistress' skim

He Left
portals out from misery
gone himself eagerly
then comes back, with such
-A Victory
for now, a statured man is he

Knights & Kings
upon bended knees
and everything he please
from a man to a boy
-in a dream
A Castle, now he redeems

applying his
              lingual buds
   to the smooth
lush of her
thighs she rippled
         as a lava lake,
          no stone skipped            
                          just
melting milk, lapped up
in hungry pulses
cream of silk
   pounding thunder
        in consonants of
             taut skin drum
                nuances in vowels
         uttered in
animal dissonance
his bristled breath
all over her
              fingers
salivary intentions
over rim of lip
feeding the emptiness,
a holy vessel
more ancient than
        before time
              now ready
              to be filled by the
           essence of feminine
pineapple juice drizzling
firebud glistening
in fuchsia exposure
open gateway
      to divine outpour
a sacrificial altar
of unmasked psyche
completely stripped of
                     any pellicle
his palms firmly
planted in hot muscle
thumbs parting
            glory's hole
deer at the saltlick
lost in the velvet
just pour it in
thick molasses
not stifling,
only honeyed bark
multi-hued like
      eucalyptus deglupta
in buttery tips
dripping love,
all over her lips
and just like that, in
slick-painted dabs
of their own
acrylic-drip art
just like that
in the wild
            and thick
explodes the ache
of her
ripped
         apart
   heart

I wanna let u know
I've been talking about u
How I just want ur body next to me
Just so I can feel for how strong u are
How strong we can be together

she was never
the type of person
to gift me things.
Christmases
and birthdays
were just a sad reminder
of that.
i always have hope
that this year
will be the year.
so when the day came
that she spontaneously
gave me a bottle
of dollar store
vanilla brown sugar perfume,
i nearly cried.
this little gift
that meant nothing to her
meant everything to me.
it meant she knew
that vanilla was my
favorite scent.
it meant she knew
that the perfume
my aunt had given me
for christmas had run out.
it meant that
deep down
she cares about me.
whenever i smell
the scent of vanilla
i will close my eyes
and think
of that perfume,
mom.