Remind me why we sin
with the pressure of your lips
tongue tie me
to your sheets
and whisper long syllables
of slow honey
and sting me with your gaze
meeting mine where
fear and pleasure mix
and strip me of my human name
and sacrifice it to the love
of pleasure you keep within your ribs
and show me the stars
you keep below your skin
and tell me of the scars
you wear proudly on your heart
tell me no lies
and I’ll give you my truth
and with a silent word
and a burning kiss
let me remind you
why we sin

What I am trying to say is,
I am well aware that it matters not whether I am with or without you;
I will keep moving,
but I much prefer your limbs with my limbs,
and I enjoy the tragedy you think makes you unable to be loved,
and I'm sorry I didn't touch you a little bit longer,
and when you're here I feel it,
and when you're not I feel it too.

by : Alexandra Crawford

When you speak, the listener understands you. When you write, the reader understands themselves.

It's not a hobby. Be prepared to give your life to it.
Read, read, read: The more poetry you read now,
the better your's will become.
Don't quit your day job. No one ever got rich writing poetry.
If you are seeking fame or to get laid,
there are obviously easier methods.
Ignore criticism, unless it is useful, and even then be wary.
Consider: Your feelings do not constitute the universe;
your love life may not be all that interesting.
Write every day. Don't wait for the Muse.
She is a fickle ***** prone to take random vacations.
Forget originality. It will paralyze you.
Write like a ******. That's what poets are.
Look forward to embarrassing yourself.
Say it in the fewest, best words.
Nothing is easy. Be prepared to burn for it.
Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts.

~mce