Midnight and I'm aching
Stylus to screen and I'm shaking
Nothing left to write
But I'm scribbling
Note after note
And I'm slipping
Memories twisting my vision
Reality's fake but I'm living
Love letters, bitemarks and
I'm drifting
To maybes and would'ves
Beginnings
Drowning out chapters
Without you
Lost in the thought
And I doubt you
Wanting only to believe that you were real
Not a dream in a moment of twilight
Zoned in on pleasure and starlight
Cursed by the gods of moonlight
That every kiss and word
Trailed tongue
And covered whisper
That every moment fading
You missed her
By her, of course me,
Though I wasn't your only
And yet that cross on my tongue
Delivered you, Holy
Cause blinded by beat, knowing
I still didn't,
Won't care
All that ever mattered was
You and me
There
Here
In this moment
That no longer is
No more pages
Or chapters, stained lips
Done......Fin
Fiending
For even the slightest taste of you
Obsessing and suppressing
Urges to write to you
To beg you to listen
To the want that you feel
To need of my skin
Silk strap of my hair
To ****** you to piercing
My eyes with your own
Allowing me entrance
Through chamber of stone....
Rambling, I'm Ranting
Got an itch for your ******
Breathless, I'm panting
Cause alone I'm undone
Trembling and chanting
"You must move on"
Shower's steaming
Pandora and starfucked songs
Nothing is said and she's giving up
Crying now
aching for a simple touch
Naked now
Drowning
Yet in water you're near
Eyes closed and you're holding me
Disappear
Only when sight
And the droplets hit the tile
Only in ghosts of a stand still while
Only for seconds of traveling souls
How the **** do I end this
Poems and prose
What more to say
You already know
Laying it down
Ever so

S
L
O
W

Sleepless........

©MV

I dated  a poet once
who thought my eyes
were brighter than the sun.
I was his muse,
his life revolved around me.

He gave me a poem once.
He was nervous
the note was moist
in perspiration.

The brightness in my eyes
made him see I was the one.

But oh,
little did he know

the fire burning
in my eyes
was not for him
but for something more.

I was his sun
and he dared not to
stray from his orbit.

I thanked him
and walked away
because what I wanted
he could not offer.

I dated a poet once,
who does not write anymore.
I took his fire with me,
forevermore.

My hands and
fingertips as
poetry across
your skin* ~

I'm finding my heart
using your hands.

Healing my scars
using your love.

Lighting my dark
with all of your
sparks.
            
Reading the
words trembling
off your
tongue.

I'm following the
map that's stretched
over your skin and
bones.

While tasting the
honey dripping
from your voice.

And listening to
our hearts hum
the same melodies
from within* ~

Beneath my covers in the
dark of night,
I felt pulled tight. 
My pajamas and
underthings finding all
the wrong places.

At my time of change,
I was gifted a bed.
I felt freedom.
A space of my own, finally alone.
The eldest, released from the pack.

Revelation of delight,
naked under soft sheets.
I felt the coolness.
My skin alive, fresh from a
warm bath. Feet wrapped safe,
deep within layers.

The Dreams came then...
I felt their calling.
Whispers beckoning me
into flight,
to float above,
observe my simple beauty

Gently slipping towards the galaxy,
I felt no weight.
Nebula's Helix, Saturn and Orion,
their colors became the
pallet of My mind.

Able to soar with the eagles,
into the depths of the oceans.
The whales called for me to follow.

Walking within the beam of
light, I felt warmth.
Crystalline aquifers quenched
my thirst. Grounding  me to the
center of our Earth.

Of an age now,
that comfort has settled in,
I feel whole within.
Naked with my soul.

The sheets still cool
after a long warm bath.


Copyright © May 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved

Love dropped
With the force of
A silken feather
Simultaneously knocking
Me to the ground
And lifting me up

The sun itself follows
your radiant beauty,
as though it were a
sunflower searching
for the brightest ray.
I'm sure anywhere
you go could double
as spring break, warm
as your smile is, and
your lilting voice
inspires me to write
verse after verse of
flowering poetry,
that even if I were
talented, would still
not near your level
of welcomed grace.


**V. K.