Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2021 · 365
Wanderer Apr 2021
Feeling marked and wicked
Silk skin stretched tight across the starving pain of my wanting
Stretching. Breathing. Breaking. Needing.
Ease this tension I must. I must.
The wet rage of the Shenandoah between my thighs
A soft rumble in the distance heralds the coming storm
I can almost feel you in me
Aching for you to fill the slick hollow that I keep hidden
Need you closer, closer, closer
Begging so pretty against the distance
Apr 2021 · 334
The Starving Table
Wanderer Apr 2021
Held to such high expectations
The fall alone would render but a stain
I doubt enough bleach exists to remove my offending shadow
You grate along my very bones
Pick them clean
Wanting. Needing. Take without asking.
My will a buffet of constant gorge
Even when I grasp the chance to speak up
Crumbs are left
I feast on silence
Feb 2021 · 479
Craving Shadows
Wanderer Feb 2021
Mirror bound, this shadow and I
For once my desire sees eye to eye
Distracting sharp edges and rough play
Searching for that biting darkness I used to crave
On wicked things my heart takes a tumble
Head over heels for salt worn stubble
I just can't shake this ache for fire, for flame
When I taste that razor edge and only get blame
Deep down inside I still feel your grit
Wave after wave, pounding away at it
What I would not give for your finger tips
Drinking full, drinking deep from regretful lips
Plunder. Pillage. Take it all.
If only to leave me panting and raw
Feb 2021 · 727
Wanderer Feb 2021
Sifting through each little grain
As though sand
Leaving a trail back to reality
Jan 2021 · 214
Ink Stain
Wanderer Jan 2021
A tangled mess
Sucker punched by my own blow hard suckers
Each scrape a deep wound full of poison and rapture
If I could but belt out this volcano of regret that burns deep
Perhaps I could take just one solitary breath that did not taste of you
That wasn't a constant reminder of
What. Could. Be.
Sea witch hair scattered every which where
Like seaweed jamming traffic along the ragged edge of reef
Is there a volunteer?
Someone willing to rehinge this off-the-rails oddity
That is and is not before you
A dead sea of guilty shade
Heavily armored
With fathomless depths of rage and remorse
Jan 2021 · 182
Wanderer Jan 2021
Pursed lips french exhale into the coldness of late January
On the inhale I can taste your cemetery shadows
The rich, bitter heat of your stalwart heart
Thumping to the tune of midnight
I want to draw on your edges with salt and whiskey
Make it burn, make it hurt
Let it really sink in how far away our fingertips have become
Am I still she?
Is this still me?
Looking for answers under the bird feeder
All I find are empty shells
Jan 2021 · 159
Widow Musings
Wanderer Jan 2021
I caught your scent at the grocery near the cereal isle
Which is funny, you never liked milk much
The telltale whistle you used to find me lost in a store
Echoed through my memory
My heart sang, then sunk
As I realized you've been gone for 8 years
Happy almost birthday anyway
You would be turning 39, still young and with so much left to live
Time, slippery and cruel, rushes past me
I guess I will always be looking for you
My heart softly whistling into the shadows
I miss you.
Jan 2021 · 237
Wanderer Jan 2021
Honey ripples sticky and sweet
Down the pouted edge of my hungry lips
Slurping softly through the mist, my full moon skin feasts on soft, midnight wind
"Shed, shed , shed" whispers in my ear
I listen
Long grass tickling the curves of my dancing thighs
Laughter, raw and true, sings out above the tree tops
I have never felt so free
Someone on the outside would see a wood nymph
Fingers hard digging into dark earth
Then sprinting fast with willow-the-whips kissing my ribcage
Inked arms out, head back
My feet pounding the rhythm of January up into the stars
Skyclad- Gaelic for naked.
Jun 2020 · 119
Sorry Doesn't Cut It
Wanderer Jun 2020
What if it came with storm clouds?
Would it matter if I flooded the space between us with tears?
I look back, 20/20 pulling ******* sore edges
Sorry has a place but not here
My fingertips can feel the warmth of your wanting
Pulling away just like my heart did
Slow, methodical, intent to hurt
No amount of what-could-be would turn me
Even now my words are silent yet I do mean their weight
Whether you've got an oar or not is no matter
Shame lapping at your distant shore
At least I did not ghost you, no no
Much worse in my eyes to me
I pulled along a tug boat with a jet engine
Even while you struggled to be free
May 2020 · 132
Oil Spill
Wanderer May 2020
I’ve got a wild hair
This oil spill running through my soul
Reflects iridescent rainbows
Soft shadows clinging to dark depths
I inhale the star dust of old bones
They scatter my brow, meteorites plunging across the edges of my sight
The wind like burning sonnets
As I belt out across the wide expanse of fading cotton candy sky
My lungs ache with unspoken words, ones I long to whisper, to sing
Instead I scream until my legs feel weak
There is no more left of me
But for the rich loam of Appalachia curving crescents beneath each fingernail
Hold fast babbling brook
Hold fast
Apr 2020 · 193
Wanderer Apr 2020
Painted toes, the color of ripe eggplants
Flutter and kick around as giggles bubble the rim of my hard edges
Days gone by in silence, broken now by mirth
Drunk on a spring afternoon's nectar
I catch the sparkle in your eye, knowing
What comes next will have me breathless, wanting
"Please" whispered softly as giggles fade to sighs
You love it when I beg
I need this, you, here in the sunshine
Gilded fingertips tracing my tarnish
Chasing away the darkness with the promise of warmth
Sep 2019 · 384
Sverre Holter
Wanderer Sep 2019
The radio has gone silent
No news across crushing blue depths
If whispers I cannot hear
I would give much for even a morsel
To know how you fare
Missing you
Wishing you well
Has anyone any news they can share about S.G. Holter? It’s been months since I heard anything about his health. I’m worried.
Aug 2019 · 180
Golden Hour
Wanderer Aug 2019
If I could give but one word of advice
It would be like corn silk to wet fingers mid-shuck
You doing your best to shake them off
Sticking all the same
You asked
A smile curves at sun wrinkled corners
Once again I fall all ripe peach juicy
Right into your calloused hands
We roll and chase, playing children in an orchard heavy soaked with late August light
Green moss intensity locks with my whiskey amber stare
Breathing you in, wanting you deeper than I can hold a secret
Golden hour glows around whispering fingertips
Sipping softly of your sweetness
Nipping at heated skin
Dizzy tilt my head back until the sky goes wild with stars
Lay me gentle into tall grass
Giving promises to love me hard
Aug 2019 · 183
Solace in Spirits
Wanderer Aug 2019
There is softness here
Lullabies and water lily lies
Half moon curved on trembling lips
Do I even want to know?
I sigh into the shadows were you used to reside
I almost cannot bare the weight of your echo
Solace in moonshine and borrowed time
Until the sun breaks over the mountains edge
Not to be complacent but how else should I handle this?
Wagon wheels turn with gravel sung rumble
Swinging water lily lies and a goodbye kiss
Aug 2019 · 177
Wanderer Aug 2019
I have been lit by candle
Wreathed in darkness
Kissed by that magic hour between twilight and 3am
None have held me
Rhythm of longing beats on through the night
Fingertips grasp for yours to keep company
Solitary and solemn without your shadow to whisper to
What happened then?
Where did you slip off to that I did not notice until the cold seeped in betwixt the floorboards of our secret place?
I fall on knees already sore with roses turned to bruise while waiting for an echo
Faint light dances, just a sliver
Bright enough to tease but too faint to ease
Jul 2019 · 173
Looking Down as Far as Ants
Wanderer Jul 2019
It has been long, this silence
Words pursed on lip edges that round with smiles instead of saying what needs to be said
Dust here, really
Drawing circles with found sticks that whisper stories of gusty gales and fruit that hung too heavy
Circles turn to cyphers that I use to channel this lack of thought
I need a taste, just one
Something sweet and sticky
Someone worthwhile and not too picky
For my standards lay between these stories and me
Mar 2019 · 452
In Response to Your Abience
Wanderer Mar 2019
Had I known your voice would haunt like so many dancing sprites along midsummers plush ridges
I may have said my peace long before you faded over the horizon
Winter was not left with your leaving
Chilled roots perhaps but more late October mysteries I have no answers for
Sending inquiries, soft and translucent
Go unheaded, unwanted, unheard
We were friends once, intertwined with what I thought was a love that had not faltered, just evolved
Months pass with naught left but frosty windows, my face pressed against the glass
Still waiting to see your light weave through the trees towards me once more
Jan 2019 · 427
Shift Souls
Wanderer Jan 2019
I dream in drops of April showers
Each note prismed,
                          some soft,
                                             some sharp
Into blossomed bright hued midnight edges

Secret flowers I hold close with asfault heat
Shift souls that once fit into each groove like all wreathed-in-mystery creators
I once dreamed of you in crimson letters
Swamped in mountain kisses, big sky glory
Memory pulls at a few calm whispers but nothing truly there
Just the space between two tangled mouths and thick summer air
Hand to hip you silly sipper
I lick white lightening from the curve of your smile
Change of season saw you slipping
From one gypsy to the next
As roaming hearts are want to do
Maybe that’s why I like it short and sweet
The only way I could get it from you
Jan 2019 · 587
Happy Almost Birthday
Wanderer Jan 2019
There’s celebrating and then there is full immersion
On this almost crazed day of my qued arrival
I rub feet together as though crickets could sing
A glass raised in cheers to however many years
You won’t get me to confess a single thing
Blowing candles, spread confetti across the 16th of January like a ballroom in spring
You can catch me dancing along witching hours edges
Waiting with sly eyes for glittering presents I know you will bring
Wreathed in smiles echoing thank yous and laughter
Only one year older if these wishes were wings
Dec 2018 · 290
Wanderer Dec 2018
For solemn hands to hold as I grow frail and old
Wrinkled eyes smiling tiredly back at mine
In their depths I would relive soft tongued mornings
Stormy edges that echoed the heated joining of youth and vigor
I have danced and dallied with the widow maker
With sharp design he’s a real heart breaker
Ticking time tears add salt to each story retold
At my feet to little ears and little eyes that yearn to see
If only for a moment
What it was like to be free
Dec 2018 · 237
Once Was
Wanderer Dec 2018
A handful of water thrown like glitter to bead against reflective floors
Mirrors my cage in a hundred different ways
If I look closely enough I can see myself that free, that open
With every breath I taste the sharp tang of memories
That without you will never sit with sugar on my tongue again
Now I’m not blaming you or this wooden heart that bobs aimlessly without direction upon this endless see of caged reflection
Just exercising atrophied muscles with which I learn to stretch, to feel
Without drowning these polished plains I place cold feet on each morning
I am Alice here, skirts twisted above my head to obstruct the view
Although I know I do not wish to see it’s vast edges
Not unless they’ve painted you
Dec 2018 · 360
Wanderer Dec 2018
I find that quiet place between deep black and soft gray
Just as easy as I always have
My mind wanders
The faint outline of not too far off mountains
Calls to a wild place within the marrow of tired bones
Songs of burnt leaves, bare trees and wet things echo in response
3am cobwebbed by mid-December frost
Reminds me of another place and time
When sand instead of snow stretched out before me
Dec 2018 · 408
My Copper and Me
Wanderer Dec 2018
Front porch Tennessee shine drunk
I may be seated but my heart is dancing through silver edges along these smoky hills
Moon reflecting off half jar reflections
Mind is eased by midnight soft lights
Somewhere in here I hear your voice a calling
Long stretches of silence marked by whispers laid low
Now I know I could be just tipsy but tears ***** sharp regardless
Memories of deep summer far off and away
Take my hand now as I blubber about days I said goodbye to
Hair once dark and glossy now in long braids is gray
Them stills is all I have now, my copper and me
Soon I will lay too in these hills of Tennessee
Nov 2018 · 214
One Day
Wanderer Nov 2018
I’m going to get better at this
Your missing won’t ache as much
Horrific reinactments of your loss won’t haunt me
Won’t leave me gasping for air covered in tears of anguish
After each restless sleep
Watching others with their happy purrs won’t cut deep like this ravaged feeling of betrayal that mine no longer does
One day
For now I’m going to cry and rage and remain alone, without console
Hoping that one day happy purrs will greet me each morning once more
Oct 2018 · 602
Now I Carry Two
Wanderer Oct 2018
I have been given such little time here
Seems to me that in that space a hand of sorrow dealt
Widowed at twenty seven
A once purring friend who was nineteen years mine
Now ashes next to those of Jeremiah
Tears fall down swollen cheeks weary of the weeping
More reasons for choosing not to propagate compile
Old newspapers with new headlines I cannot help but read
My bed is less now, my pillow too big
I am still asking questions about the why and how
Where this leaves me- partly in the past and the hollow now
Two urns I carry with me while I wander through the crowd
Two urns I carry with me unto my final hour
My first and only four legged friend, Cleo. Nineteen years she aged majestically. Until she faltered. In my arms her last breath taken. I miss her more than words can say.
Mar 2018 · 349
Animal Amphigory
Wanderer Mar 2018
Each spot and speckle
Each stripe and freckle
I hold near and dear
A vegan heart with garden farts
It's silly, or so I hear
Wanderer Mar 2018
A strangle hold of memory
Deep roots in rich soil have traveled time and distance
To make fallow fields fruitful once more
An outline of your smile waxes fully in my vision
Weathered fingertips brush gently the dusted edges of dried petals
I can still smell you here among the shadows of winter
Of all the seasons to leave me breathless the cold shell of February
Lends a poetic air to your loss
I'll keep writing of my sorrow, my tenderness
For you will always have a place in my garden
Even if I let it grow wild with weeds and whispers
Aug 2017 · 509
Wanderer Aug 2017
I found you permeating my wedding bouquet
Dried scents of longing and what could have been
Are never as bittersweet initially as they are when revisited
Intake breath so deep I can feel red blood cells gorging themselves on the bounty
Tiny dust motes dance along late afternoon sunlight
As comforting shafts sneak through closed curtains
Heart beat slows as though to stretch the moment
Minutes pass, then time seemed to fall away
Breathing you in
Saturating late August with wish-you-were-here whispers
Freed quietly from salted lips as the day dims
Aug 2017 · 934
S.omething E.lse (X)
Wanderer Aug 2017
I smell like ***
Air heavy with the palpable heat of I-Cannot-Sleep arousal
Why do you have to be so delicious?
You gorgeous, bearded, mind fogging  *******
I rage at you from miles away
Crackling edges of my ire willing you to wake
The wet, slippery heat of my core begging for you to take a taste
To give relief
Strung so tight you could play me without tuning
Your deft fingers ringing such sweet melodies
In the soft silence that is all I have for a caress
My self-rung sighs speak volumes
Aug 2017 · 640
Wanderer Aug 2017
I kept my concern shuddered
Gravely unsure of the next step ahead
The urge to dance is overwhelming
I move, closed eyes, through breeze and warmth like an old lover
Deep berry summer stains kissing every edge, every shadow
Every surface
As though to ensure its taste is left somewhere
How could you?
Steal yourself away into old cedar cigar boxes that when opened, (tears)
All I can do to stay the wave is to embrace the anguish of your phantom scent
You are turning away with each passing day
Too soon will the frosted gray of shorter days
Wrap closely
Convincing me that this was only my idea
That the sun was never really here
Aug 2017 · 600
Four Year Fog
Wanderer Aug 2017
I've been wandering
My mind following the static pull of fingertip
Along sharp frames that no longer focus clearly
Gentle shakes do little to dislodge the fog
It surrounds
I lie naked amongst the ruin of four years ago
An ache that just won't ease
Please don't presume to know the taste of this poison
Apathy to you, maybe
Yet this dredge and I are very old friends
Unburdened with the need of your half-formed opinion
Not back...but something. Hurting. Missing the cathartic glow of late night hellopoetry screen.
Jan 2017 · 801
Wanderer Jan 2017
Sun rises, creamsicle smooth over high peaks*

I come alive again at day break
Dark hours of 3am once held tightly
To the silky slide of my dreaming mind
Jan 2017 · 628
Wanderer Jan 2017
You make every nook and cranny
Each thirsty, soft curve
Lean towards the rough edges of your touch
With the exquisite ease of a man that knows


Jan 2017 · 973
Wanderer Jan 2017
I had the weighted ghost of a palm once pressed
Now a phantom limb tingles
After reading letters you wrote while sick and prone against stark white
Heavy heart yearns to have you linger
Gentle is the softest whisper of your echoing "goodbye"
Tears slip to fall and form
Mirrored pools at my constant running feet
Each salted soldier fighting to remain
Nov 2016 · 813
Empty with Loss
Wanderer Nov 2016
The creaking song of autumn trees
Softly singing in midnight breeze
By cool glowing light of silver moon
Close memories are tied to hearts that wound
Into strong arms I once lay, easing into sleep
Now I whisper by shadows, my secrets they keep
I can still hear your voice reading Vonnegut in bed
Where you read now is all in my head
Year after year the hours do toll
My once diamond heart now reverting to coal
Fragile and dusty to embers with flame
I wish I could quit you and bring you back the same
Another year is sliding by without you. The ache burns still.
Nov 2016 · 853
Dark is She
Wanderer Nov 2016
Pieces fall
Snowflake shapes
Each reflect differently
In its descent from Hrímfaxi's mane
For I am Nótt, scarred by shadow
A blanket of stars tattooed across my brow
Reigns of frost dangle from crescent fingertips
Guiding dreams through the night
An ode to us 3am worshippers.
Oct 2016 · 717
Wanderer Oct 2016
I watch these documentaries
About East Of the Mississippi Legends
Like Popcorn Sutten and D Ray White
The sound of Hank III on lonesome guitar
Or perhaps the pleading pull of sad violin
A tear slips as I too remember
When I used to be Wild
Running barefoot through dew drenched grass
I want to breathe that air again
The air of the Wild
They live on through fan or family
Each has lit a fire
Some under copper stills
Others on the heals of mountain dancing shoes
Smoke continues to roll out from under those of us affected
Our eyes searching each rain for more of the same
Boone County is beautiful
Something  to write home about
All in one these  coal stripped mountains are a larger than life package
That will steal your very breath
Replacing it with back woods romance
Late night campfire stories
Not to mention the heady fragrance of Paw Paw perfume
I grew up nestled between the Appalachia
Lush valley of the Shenandoah
I thought I knew what mountains were

I was wrong.
The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia
Me and My Likker by Popcorn Sutten
Sep 2016 · 1.0k
Deep Water
Wanderer Sep 2016
I am afraid to write about you
The cushioned dark corner I have placed you in
Could suddenly become back lit with soft candle glow
Or blindingly bright mid-summer sun blaze
I became photosensitive to your light years ago
These emotional sunglasses, black out curtains for my vulnerability
Are all that stands between my willpower and the truth of it all
You are delicious. Dangerous.
Completely wrong and perfect for me all in one bad decision
Time passes, memories fade, so I turn back to take another sip
Tip toes become full submersion
Why does it have to be so easy to drown in you?
I use drowning as a way to describe the sensations you evoke
Not as some romantic metaphoric notion
You are Deepness.
The surface only a tease.
You are Suffocation.
Lungs struggling with their intent to breathe.
I know this but yet continue testing these waters
One day, perhaps soon
I will not resurface.
Stones sink heavy in the heart of a sinner
Taking my better judgement with me
Aug 2016 · 997
Soft Songs of Moving On
Wanderer Aug 2016
Mute gray entwines wistfully around my ankles
Night time ghostly kittens playing with the shadows past
My eyes often see the moon reflecting upon the bright visage of your memory
I still feel burned down.
A ruin that in future breaths will be seen as the discovery of my lifetime
In reality it is the great loss
Static hums between the quiet space connecting brain to ear
In that white noise I make out your voice singing songs of moving on
Understanding has yet to dawn yet I have heeded your wishes
My heart does warm once more
Though parts remain dark, hidden
Blessed with carrying the weight of where you still rest
I may often be at a loss for words but when it comes to you, pain always keeps me full. Why is it that at times I focus so ******* the fact that you were taken too soon and not on the beauty of knowing you? I hope one day I can look back and be blind to all of the horror. Even if that means that crucial parts are lost in the process. I miss you.
Aug 2016 · 594
Wanderer Aug 2016
Muscles once taunt now lie lax
A smile graces clear skin
Seeing through bright eyes once again
I've missed the feel of smoothness your memory evokes
Reigned in for longer than I would have preferred
Restricted with tear's choke
Clouds crowding me
My feet are beneath me
Soft pads pounding hot pavement
In midsummer celebration
Hearing your song from oceans away  
Eases the hold of emotional strangulation
I miss you.
Deep aches that know not the pressure of your touch
Even so they call for you
Missing you without measuring how much
Aug 2016 · 601
Wanderer Aug 2016
First, what I thought was the only
Young. Eager. Stars in my eyes that shown just for you
Planets aligned along with bittersweet poetry
Bringing our moist, teenage palms together
Late in March of our senior year
Back seats of both cars steamed up
Pleasured cries that thought then "this is it"
Our laughter on late nights still stands out in stark relief against our subpar coupling
Although you had it in you
It was me that needed it in me
Aug 2016 · 753
I Would Worship
Wanderer Aug 2016
I feel the fuzzied heat of your wine laced breath through the miles

Hair on the back of my neck, aware, ripples goose flesh over sensitive skin

Fingertips itch to ease the ache in the knotted place between your smoke soaked lungs

Give me a chance...
Aug 2016 · 555
Wanderer Aug 2016
We are young, fresh
Stars in our eyes falling hard
Summer running wild across cotton candy skies
I wish I could push pause
Take it all in deep, slow breaths
Another season of warmth and sunshine
Passing me by with a quickness
Your smile glitters just beyond my melancholy
Bringing me back to the present
I mirror it with ease
Even if a part of me will always be wanting
Jul 2016 · 538
Not Fade Away
Wanderer Jul 2016
When I was much younger
Salamander for skin with aching veins of Pele
I always knew that I was better for the burning
Then ever I was for fading away
Making promises to innocence I would not hold on to much longer
Merely echos reminding me of what can never be
Resonating through the hollowed hallways residing deep within me
Jun 2016 · 1.8k
The End by Jim Morrison
Wanderer Jun 2016
This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
The end of ev'rything that stands
The end

No safety or surprise
The end
I'll never look into your eyes again

Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need of
some strangers hand
In a desperate land

Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain
There's danger on the edge of town
Ride the king's highway
Weird scenes inside the goldmine
Ride the highway West baby

Ride the snake
Ride the snake
To the lake
To the lake

The ancient lake baby
The snake is long
Seven miles
Ride the snake

He's old
And his skin is cold
The west is the best
The west is the best
Get here and we'll do the rest

The blue bus is calling us
The blue bus is calling us
Driver, where you taking us?

The killer awoke before dawn
He put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall

He went into the room where his sister lived
And then he paid a visit to his brother
And then he walked on down the hall
And he came to a door
And he looked inside
Yes son
I want to **** you
Mother, I want to...

Come on, baby, take a chance with us
Come on, baby, take a chance with us
Come on, baby, take a chance with us
And meet me at the back of the blue bus

This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end

It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me-aca
Jun 2016 · 1.5k
10 Years Gone
Wanderer Jun 2016
I was held close on foggy mornings
Clouds rolling in to the tune of distant thunder
A tangled mess of gray sheets
Goodbye on the edges of our teeth
Looking back now through clearer lenses I know you better than I should
Lessons and years of laughter lie between us
Still, I slumber while watching traffic in my sleep
Jun 2016 · 796
Songs of Summer
Wanderer Jun 2016
Soaking up the sweet, slow shine of summer
Basking in June's warm day glow
You remind me of innocence
Times long passed when I did not know the ache of loss
I find myself feeling guilty for loving you
Being happy
Even though I know the gone would wish it for us
I breathe you in my tie dyed lover
A vast array of rainbow hued passion
Spilt across my peaches and cream canvas
You go down easy like sweet wine berry wine
Late July before us twanging on mountain top strings
I'll be here while you sleep softly
Guarding a back that always has mine
Jun 2016 · 540
Wanderer Jun 2016
There is still a softness here
Hidden along my laugh lines
Occasionally reaching my eyes
Allowing you a glimpse of what could be
Regret. Life taken too soon. Grief.
All of these have hardened me
Where there was lightness sits heavy
Bones of birds now steel
Molded Osmium to once pliable exterior
Replaced constant sun with drifting shadow
Yet all of this is still me, my spirit unchained
To want me is to accept all parts
Regardless of their weight
Jun 2016 · 1.2k
Simply, I Miss You.
Wanderer Jun 2016
I often sit and wonder
Amongst the blurred water colors of twilight
What you would have to say about today
Commenting softly on the morning bird song
Humming against the back of my neck in sleepy adoration
Sometimes I cry with longing, with regret
At all we will never share
Most often I smile that secret you and me smile
At all we were able to lay bare
The weight of your hand in mine has no measure
I recognize it in the deep hours of night
I'll hear your voice, taste your taste
Notice your presence in bright summer light
We lived drunk, so high our eyes crossed
Soaking up every second we had to grab
Nothing that strong lasts for long
I'm blessed to have loved you
Blessed to love you still
There is no end to you and I. Just a change in how we now exist. Me, physical. You, spiritual. The love remains the same.
Wanderer May 2016
If you were a book
I would stay up all night
Feverishly flipping pages
Soaking up every single syllable
To know your ending

If you were a tropical island
I would explore your lush, secret interior
Spending long, lazy afternoons naked
Sun drunk on your shores

If you were a ***** joke
I would throw my cackles to the ceiling
Careful to not burst windows
Making sure to retell you often
Your punch line only gets better

If you were a roller coaster
I would wait in line for half the day
Just to be caressed by your safety harness soaked in other's sweat
Not to mention your talent with G-spots,* I mean forces*

If you were early morning
I would brew you strong and extra hot
Sipping cautiously at your ceramic edges
Watching blue smoke lazily curl
Then taking deep gulps as you cool
Buzzed on you till the afternoon

If you were mine
I would fill up your long dried and crusted ink wells
Encourage your laughter to come out to play
But above all
I would love you. Madly.
Next page