Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I like the way you look at me.
Your eyes have that little twinkle
and your pupils dialate --

I can see it clearly in the pale green of your irises.
The corners of your lips curl into a smile, a smirk, a grin,
and the butterflies in my tummy start to flutter all over.
They creep into my bloodstream and send tingles throughout my limbs,
a tantalizing numbness that I'd savor 'til the end.

I like the way you look at me
when your fingertips graze my skin.
Goosebumps raise and my heart begins to race
as your hands find themselves in the right place;
Thighs, hips, and behinds; *******, necks, hands tangled in hair.

I see that twinkle in your eye and the grin playing on your lips,
and your usual pale green eyes darken a deeper shade of lust --

or is it love?

That sultry look and your bedroom eyes,
the rasp of your voice and your hand on my thigh --

*is this love or is this lust?
written on may 29, 2013; originally posted on my blogspot as a drabble.
If
If I could go back
I'd erase those silly arguments we had.
The ones where both of us were right
And neither of us wrong.

If I could go back
I'd buy you more flowers just because
I know how much a single rose
Illuminates your soul.

If I could go back
I'd take you to the beach a lot.
Knowing that your shine would fight
The Sun's rays. And win.

If I could go back
I'd make you smile again
Because your beauty protruded
Through both corners of your lips.

If I could go back
I'd memorize each and every word
You said to me as you walked away.
A token of your memory.

If I could go back.
But I can't go back.
So I'll choose to forget former incidents
And focus on future hazards.
Woe is the man who revels in romance
He must hide his revelling from the world.
Never on a bus or plane or train, have you
Seen a man reading a romance novel, the
Lurid cover compelling the reader to delve
Into the protagonists embarrassment of
Embraces, between the satin sheets.
And you reached into me with your greedy hands,
so much so that I wasn't sure where your fingers ended and my skin began
So much so that I mistook your livid pulse for mine.

And I thought I was breathing in burning air,
and the world turned cold and you didn't care
And I saw hell in your eyes..
but you were dressed in God's robes...

I saw hell in your eyes..
but it was too late to let go.
We fall into to the night without saying a word
Nothing could be said, nothing should be said
No words are clean enough to cut the peace.
We open our eyes to the morning light with a laugh
I know exactly what that smile means
I’ve learned your expressions like a dialect.
An undeniably happy face, sticky and syrupy sweet
From all the silent praises I’ve planted on your cheek
I let the quiet sing, things I shouldn't yet say.
When we kiss, I leave, like a spirit from a hollow body
Turning completely liquid under a tickled, happy layer of skin
Feeling so content and full, like soul food on the weekend
Hearing the perfect white noise of your record player
While it sings for me during my shower
Inhaling the incense we forgot we lit, so long ago
A day ago, three days ago, but I’ve almost known you always.
We expand the concept of a minute, an hour, a night
Learning more in the framework of a flash
Than some may learn in a lifetime
A paralyzing combination of heat and honesty of heart
We once were parallel, but completely unaware
Now we are perpendicular, in motion, in crossing
In a quick intersection we wish could trap us
We have both been propelled towards different horizons
But that doesn't take away the thrill of the present tense
It makes it all the more romantic

                                                                ­            "... Come,                     
                                                              ­                 catch her."                     

                                                Rising;        ­       
                                                         anew                                      
                          fr­om glowing
                     ashes.                
               
                 Buffeted;          
               by the hollow
                   of her              
                             shoulders.             
              
                                     Swirling;                  
                              amidst sweet
                           handfuls,
                          gently
                               blown,   
                                from the   
                       cherries  
                    pinkest    
              boughs.
                                         ­         
                                    Wings spread;                  
        
                                  
"Do you see them?"        

                     Flying
                            again...

                                           Off          
                                                  g­rid         
                                                    ­         without       
                                                                ­    a course.      
                                                   ­              
                                                            Wild  
                                                          sparks­, 
                                                              ­follow her tail    
                                       across an  
                                                  ever brigh­tening          
                           sky
.            

                    Let                     
her fire
     burn              
your eyes.
          
                             Watch,                     
                               ­                                          
                          as her tears    
                                                 heal your                        
                                    pain.               
             
                                                    Reach out,              
                          
                                                  &                    
                                                                ­          touch                                    
                                    ­                        each                
                                                               silver lining  
                                              as
                                                                ­   she                   
                                          ­                    takes             
                                                         ­       You                      
                                                       dancing            
                                              freely              
                   on a
                                   breeze...             
        
                                   Floating                   
                                deliciously,          ­        
                     with                      
                   nimble                   
        fae;            
       
Spun,
                   in the              
                   wisps of          
               tiptoeing
                  spiders.
                                     ­
                              Dizzy 
                           ­             together    
                                 (now)
                                             with the sound
                                               of their sweet        
                                                   ­  laughter.                         
              
               ­         ~Open~

                      in
                                       ­       a sky of                       
                                                  blossom &                          
                                                                ­       sparks.                                                
                                     
                                        ~At One~               
                      
                                as       ­     
                                               All                            
                             ­         around,                  
                          she hears, quite         
                          ... unmistakeably ...          
                                                                          ~for the sake of mischief~                                                       ­ 
                                         whispered softly, with                     
                               ­              each bluster.                           
                             ­         
                                                          ­ *"Do you hear it too?"                                  

...the start... is an echo from our much-missed poet JP
Next page