the ghost of you lingers on my lips
the echo of your touch on the curve of my waist
I remember every shaking breath,
every sweet nothing you whispered between my thighs...
with every kiss I could taste little bits of me mixed with little bits of you mixed with the liquor you had been drinking that night
and I remember thinking that I liked the way you tasted.
then you took my hand and held it and I could see a spark in your eye that hinted of mischief and carnal desire.
and so you traced every curve of my body with your tongue
and then you painted my chest and my neck with marks that screamed, "she's mine," even if it was only for a fleeting moment.
and then the night grew old and the sun began to rise and I found myself stumbling out your door, newly addicted to the way you had made me feel.

When the world lays traps
Pass by them
And leave them alone

I am an old soul
I never asked for explorers to progress
I never asked for inventors to invent
I never asked for science to discover or scholars to detect
I never asked to go from Steamers to engines
I never wanted to trade vinyl for headphones

But I’d always trade city lights for a mountain range
A worn out skyline for an open plane

Why do we complicate our lives in attempt to make them simple?
And why has living simply, become to most something trivial

I am raptured in this soul that refuses to age
In times that are always persistent to change

"Old Soul" -JP