I saw you that last spring
wearing a red velvet jacket
covering your tie dye.
You were ethereal then Rose,
had become stuck on Buddha,
stars floated in your hair.
I still remember your tattered blue jeans
& now I wonder,
all these years later,
am curious if you had been on a pilgrimage,
if you had crawled
all the way from Miami to Tallahassee
on your knees?
Do you still believe in zen-magic,
& can you hear me?

She loves it,
teasingly
wearing
transparent fine-lace,
revealing more than
just her subtle grace.
She lets the imagination run wild,
from her pretty face,
all the way down
to her sweet revelations,
she moves her hips
hypnotically
to her own beat
& I am swept off my feet...

Its 1am and Im searching for you in the bottom of every bottle.
He's asking me about my poetry but how am I supposed to tell him that my poems are for you and I wont stop writing until Im tangled in your bed sheets for the rest of my life?
He is sweet and polite but he doesnt wrap his hands around my neck and the way you do.
There's something so tragically beautiful in the honesty slipping from my finger tips, because while he's tracing my spine I am consumed with the taste of your skin on my lips and the feeling of your hands against my hip bones.
Its 1am and im wondering if you're searching for me in the unfamiliarity of others, hoping you might smell my scent on her collarbones or feel my skin under her dress.
Out of all the boys ive kissed, you were my favourite by the way you looked me in the eyes with those hands clasped around my neck, no fear of squeezing too hard.
Its 1am and he's holding my hand but you're strangling my heart and these words are seeping out of my skin. No one makes me bleed like you
only you, always
you



alanna

Seduce my delicate
Mind and run after my
Oxygen which is the
Key to my sweet, long
E**verlasting pain

She wore vintage lace & bandanas,
fresh flowers looked pretty in her hair.
She was born in the city, but
the country was her playground.
Counting stars was a pastime for her &
her bed was surrounded
by a circle of burning candles.
Imported incense swirled in her room,
natural oils were her expertise.
She was certainly no tease,
she could make you feel at ease
with the way her body talked.
She loved to **** sensimilla.
No joke,
she was absolute Heaven on Earth.
I lost my mind with her
& she never gave it back.
I think she still keeps it
in her secret treasure box.