I can't put into words
How soothing it is to
Rest my head against your chest

To run my my fingertips down
Your towering back

Or to hold your hand
While street lights flutter like eyelashes
As we drive against the pavement

My lips have become swollen,
Carrying words that are,
Whispered between bed sheets and,
My legs have becomes vines, wrapped around you.
You mapped out your expedition,
You traveler,
Explorer,
Venturer.
"****" The only word able to escape my throat.
"Yeah." You replied, grinning like a fool against the colors of blue and red that danced around the room.

I've spent an eternity running my hands along jagged edges of broken hearts
As humans, we like to reminiscence about the past.
We romanticize the future.
And we forget the present; we put it off to the side like lingering colds, leaving cough drops in the car.

The sunlit pools dropping to the ground;
The pitter pattering,
Is set aside by the numbing voices of people, rushing
Untouchable; dry
Shielded by brick buildings and colorful,
Umbrellas that open up like circus tents,
Here, in the city
It pours,
It rains.

The Eskimos know,
The land like,
The back of,
Their hand;

Home is white and,
Glistening.
Home, it is cold,
It is harsh

"It is beautiful", they say.

Home is beautiful.

I am drunk with sin and

The heat of your name radiates

Off of my rising chest

And, God,

Doing such ***** things

Never felt so good