You already have my heart.
And though I’m not dapper

enough to wear one, my body
is yours at the drop of a hat.

My mind, too, belongs to you:
before you even read them,

these lines are yours to open.
Slide a finger beneath the seam;

undo me with a concupiscent flick.
Spill me onto the bed. Take me in.

You’ve read me before.
Tonight, read me closer.

Intensity in a writer is easy to spot
its in the callus on the finger that braces the pen
Its in the way she cannot breathe
when she looks at you
or until she finishes that line.
It's in the way you lose her for hours
as she writes, or reads, or paints you in poetry.
Its the way she tries to find words
that work better than I love you
Its that her love letters are 4 pages long
its the way she laments not being able to convey
exactly how she feels
its that sometimes her words don't seem to be constructed of ink
but life blood.
and that she is not flesh and bone
but paper and ink
She'll leave bruises with teeth
scratches with too short nails
because for just a moment she wants to consume you
we are all like that
we just want to be in your blood
to infiltrate your mind only for a moment.
It's in that she'll always remember the things that hurt you
every scar you've ever shown.
but not what she had for breakfast
it's her propensity for addiction
she'll say you make her want to be better
do not doubt her
you are the sky, the ink well, the page...
you are every beautiful passage
she doesn't love anything the way she loves words
you are words.... you are the thing itself.
you are the only thing even close in beauty
to the page.

You get what you give
And you give what you get
We curse all that is wicked
Yet we are our own threat

Feel the world inside you
We shape our every day
Better your intentions
And watch what you say

Karmas a *****
But at least she plays fair
The universe is in you
Beyond your mask

Bare.

Hello, Cupid,
what are your plans for me this year?
I've been lucky for a while now,
but today might not be the same
This guy that I've been seeing,
well, we're not quite really dating?
And he told me last night
that he's not very lovey right now?
Sooooo
I guess today is a single girl's day...
But, hey!
There's still plenty of time
for a V-Day surprise:
roses at the door and Mylar balloons galore
A box of chocolate hearts and
A kiss for the Miss?
There's still an entire day,
so, Cupid, don't waste it away,
I really do love Valentine's Day.

Though this world may shiver and shake
Feel the quake from its mistakes
Not knowing what it's supposed to do
Spin through space without a clue

Show up empty show up late
Where every day seems a blind date
With no idea or master plan
Filling in the best it can

Tilt either direction in mid twirl
Through it all you'll still be my girl

While most alive are shoved aside
To a place there's no place to hide
There is you and me through it all
Each other's net lest we should fall

No matter what the world pours out
In its emptiness in its daily doubt
I'll take all of you that I'm allowed
Soon enough to find that out

You are both my sickness and my cure
And through it all you'll always be my girl

I'll hold you with all I've got
Every move and every thought
Love will be strong in my stand
Giving over all I can

Where no two days are the same
In the form of early in the shape of late
With the world no longer spit and shine
And no green grass on either side

You will always be my hidden pearl
And through it all you'll always be my girl

Is only a name.
But naming is
Like timing,
Spacing,
Teasing
Loving -
A carving
In chaos.

© LazharBouazzi, February 14, 2017

There are days I don't have maps for
Days I stray from the path with no direction or destination
Moments where my mind wanders far from its assigned seat
I am not alone in this and I know it
We are mad, you and I
Our brains move effortlessly away from principal locations
We dance on burning coals because we think it will grant us a lighter step
We sing the songs our mother listened to because maybe she will come back just to sing along
We breathe in cigarette smoke to suffocate the dreams inside of us because surely, they are impossible to reach, just like your mother always said
There are days I don't have maps for
There are days where I don’t need them

I'm learning so much while I'm on my way to you.
I hope, I pray, I know
You are learning too.
While the seasons are changing,
we'll both be stepping into something new.
A new season, a new heart, and a new me.
You wouldn't believe the changes taking place,
and I hope when we get there,
you love what you see...

My favorite poem
is your hands on my neck.
If you need my lips all over you,
I'll deliver and keep it in check.
What about you?
You see I don't write love poems on paper,
I write them on the sheets.
You know my mouth and my tongue
are your new favorite sweets.
Enough of these rhymes,
we are just wasting time.
Just show me where your bedroom is,
and tell me how much you want me.
And I'll show you what you've been missing,
and it's heaven when you're deep inside me.
What about you?
What is your favorite poem?
I hope it's your hands on my neck.