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David W Jones Oct 2013
Tonight

Seductive lips speaking
Sensual truth
Tongues mingle
Tasting savory forgiveness

Silhouettes exposed
Grudges disrobed
Falling around the ankles

Nerves captivated along the spine
By the touch of compassion
Beads of perspiration
Dripping adulation

Closely guarded secrets
Shattered
Bodies covered
From the dust of tumbling tension
Souls shaken
From the weight of conversation

Intimacy reveals
Unexplored regions
Between mind and soul

Tonight nothing remains
Except indulgence
Believing the sun
Will never rise
David W Jones Oct 2013
She shares a promise
That her life
Will be different

Nobody believes
Her words

She is humiliated
By their laughter
And ridicule

Despair produces
Her tears

She waits for
The storm despite
Their flawed wisdom

Faith releases
Her mind

She sees the signs
As the summer heat
Touches the overcast sky

Anticipation cloaks
Her spirit

She feels the change
As the summer wind
Moves the sedentary landscape

Exuberance permeates
Her soul

She listens as the
Sound of thunder
Echoes her name

Love overcomes
Her pain

She smiles as her
Heart receives the
Warmth of falling rain
David W Jones Oct 2013
Salt air
Clearing away obscurity
Revealing a lost love
Waiting on jagged stones
Dulled by her patience

Her endless adoration
Flowing like ocean waves
Crashing against my soul
Wanting winds draw me towards her
Closing the gap created by time

Fresh sand
Beneath our feet
Erase our broken footprints
From long ago

Our spirits intertwine
Within a forgotten embrace
Drawing the heavens
Into sunset
David W Jones Oct 2013
Nocturnal twists;
stifled breathing.
Demons drowning
in fountain ink.
David W Jones Oct 2013
Lately,
I wonder if
she has grown
weary of me; maybe
occupying her time
with second thoughts.

Our moments
seem lost within
distractions, we seem
content with the trail of
unbroken silence.

Sometimes,
I wonder if
she wants someone else;
maybe my instincts are clouded
by my insecurities.

It feels like
the anticipation
has worn off; as though
the sound of my name
no longer matters.

If only I could stare
into her gorgeous
green eyes
and bare my soul.
David W Jones Oct 2013
An open window reveals
a chilling breeze; yep,
it's cold outside.

The air chaps
lips and hands;
rough to touch.

The familiar
smell of precipitation
precedes a tear drop.

The downpour smears
a salty message;
notions of ill intent
dripping from the paper
David W Jones Oct 2013
a pound of peanut butter
layered on a wheat thin

something to pass the time
cause the internet is down

another pound of peanut butter
tastes better right off the spoon
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