I want to fall with a Poetress
Not a girl but a woman that can match my intellect.
She can cook and clean but is far from domesticated.
Need a ghetto queen like Latifah
I'm from the hood baby I can handle a skillet.
Let's split it
You cook the rice I make the chicken
A woman that understands it all from politics to religion
She fights for her rights
And some nights she doesn't want to lay she wants to ride  
Never ask for nothing but is willing to die
Living for the moment
Like of our live is being directed by Nick Cassavetes
A Poetress I promise to keep smiling
Like a woody Allen movie
And if I sell my soul
I'll be Adam and she Lilith
I want to fall in love with a Poetress
That argues with me metaphorically
Poetic in her actions
When she threatens to leave me
A goddess with words and she let's me hear it
A woman I can open up like a book
And let's me eat in her living room
One that can bear baby Jesus and the anti Christ if God decides
My match
My one on one
Wether I have a bible or a ski mask
Much more than superficial beauty
But if I had to choose
She'll be Patron white with a Henny ***
Don Pergion for a mouth,
she speaks class
1880 aged wine for her mind
Her thoughts are dined
I want to fall in love with a Poetress
Who understand cutlery
But loves bacon and burger beef
A goddess of poetry
Would be the only one right for me
I want to fall in love with a Poetress
And the search begins
your majesty.....

I want to feel
your soft lips pressed tightly
against my kiss
making their way across my cheek,
i want to feel,
you whisper in my ears
i want you
as our desires
admit defeat.

I want to feel
your fingers slowly make their way
down my neck,
and slide up my vest
i want to feel
your hot breath
dancing its way
across every inch
of my chest.

i want to feel
our bodies collide
as you make soft music
out of mine.
i want to feel you
draw pictures
out of the claw marks
along my spine.

I want to feel
your tongue
make its down my stomach
and between my thighs
i want to feel
your fingers slip
gently
inside.

I want to feel
you slowly
take your tongue and
those hungry red lips
cradling, caressing,
tasting, savouring
between my
pleading hips,

I want to feel
my palms smashing
into our
headboard
as I beg you,
again and again
please baby,
just once
more.

I want to feel
my legs shake,
as you create an
earth quake inside
of me
that'll leave me quivering
for days.

I want our pillows
embedded and engrained
scents, tastes
memories
that put our wildest
fantasies and dreams
to shame.

To see you for the first time again
To feel you for the first time again
To kiss you for the first time again
To fall in love with you all over again, I wish
I wish I could time-travel
To live those golden moments again
Moments that meant more than the world to me

The issue lies not in you being gone but in the fact that you're away.
In seeing your smile it became transfixed in my brain and became something that one could only hope to see every time the sun brought a new set of hours to life.

The issue lies not on the decision you made to go but in the mystery of whether you'll return. I could live without you, please that you must believe, but what fun or momentary enjoyment would it be to constantly dance outside in the rain if never with a partner.

The issue lies not in the few days we spent together but in the plentiful seconds I knew who you were. Every word, gesture, movement and expression resonated in my head reminding me of the day I was born without the rest of me in hopes to find it.

The issue lies in the fact that there is no issue after all is there?
If you're the issue, we'll find the answer.
If time is the issue, we'll watch the clock together.
If we're the issue, it's the world that is mistaken.

There are darknesses in life
And there are lights
You... are one of the lights.
The light of all lights.

Abandoned buildings, towns, homes, and everything in between have always sparked my curiosity. Each of them have a story to tell which I yearn to hear.  

Maybe that's why I've always been so drawn to you.


                                  B.S.

You could break my heart into
Tiny
Little
Pieces,
And I'd still pick them up
And put them back in your hands.

/
Time when cut into pieces
Occasionally in tiny fraction
Hear a sound
To play around in my head

Hit the broken piece
Like a knife objectives
To my heart
****** me

The man who love lost elect
That way the traveler lost prompts
Guess he was not caught
Love does not make projects out

But that's the way to get lost in the river
If nothing else the
Sure finds
One day in her estuary
/
@ Musfiq us shaleheen