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Jan 2016 · 432
The Tin Man
WoodsWanderer Jan 2016
Will it ever change?
Will I walk away;
and not feel lost
Will I ever experience this rush
I watch filling lovers limbs.
Raising them higher than our stratosphere

Will I ever float?

Through a stilted gaze
I look,  kept from emotion
and long to feel.
The waves crashing at their toes
Sandy, passionate love rolls like foam
that kisses the shore with bubbly lips.

Will I ever be kissed like that?

my metel chest warms at her sight
More with hope of what could be
Instead of what would be.
Although my mourning persists
beating against my ribs
Insistant
My chest aches at this sight,
I wish no more harm
Although I do not raise one finger.
I exist to observe
My stilted tin kelidescope twisting and peeling away emotion
and I am allowed to see
but not experience.
Never experience.
Dec 2015 · 326
Untitled
WoodsWanderer Dec 2015
Stark white light exposes the wounds
Emaciated flesh displayed, she whimpers
and I reach out to comfort.
But if I touch her it will hurt as much as when
the knives first broke her skin.
If I speak it will shame her as much as the jeers of the boys grinning at her
****** exposed body.
So I sit.
Her eyes find mine and I see the beasts of pain raging their war.
The clarity of her struggle bring a nausea to my stomach
an ache to my throat.
I drop my gaze, sweaty hands knotted as they had knotted her ropes
Unwillingly the memory washes over me
what they did to her
how they did it
the blood drains from my face
my writhing insides scream for me to expell all memory of the incident
Lungs struggle for oxygen and I choke out a gasp
making a soft noise in her throat
she reaches out, laces her hand in mine
stilling my trembling fingers.
I meet her gaze and see a tired affection
soothing the beasts
And she is the one comforting me.
Dec 2015 · 233
Untitled
WoodsWanderer Dec 2015
Words form in the dark
Her face
A white smudge
Her lips
A red promise
I'm drawn
Though crimson rains down
drops trembling at the ends of her hair
dripping down her curved shoulders as
she pulls the ribbon free and shivers in the moonlight
A hushed smile tempts her mouth
as her eyes flick up to capture mine
The stained ribbon twisted through her fingers
she beckons me closer.
Leaning in so her head rests just below my chin
Hair as dark as the crows feathers
Tickles my lips.
I laugh.
She blindfolds my eyes
paints my mouth
then between a count of twelve
she is gone.
Dec 2015 · 429
Moonsmoke
WoodsWanderer Dec 2015
The smoke curled into the glittering sky,
Grey fingers that blurred the stars, teasing their edges.
He was beautiful as he leaned his head against the weathered bark,
His tousled dark hair a crown of shadows.
Calloused fingers whispered a history of steel strings
As they lazily twirl a joint from tip to thumb.
The paper kissing his lips
He inhaled
The smoldering orange highlighting his cheek bones
sparking off his feline eyes.
With a slow grin he turned his gaze to the night sky
Smoke seeping from his teeth to curl up
To be snagged by the crisp night breeze.
Russet skin, painted with the silver of the moons glow
Eyes dark, flashing with the stars cool brightness
He resembled my every dream of a dark prince.
His lazy stance,
His sensual lips forming an O to release frothy rings that danced
In the pale darkness.
He was the epidemy of **** and a rush of want flooded my veins
The electricity in my limbs
jumping towards him.
My heart caught and I stumbled under the rush of fire
Looking quickly away, red stained my ****** cheeks and
His husky laugh filled the night.
WoodsWanderer Dec 2015
Blue eyes
Hold mine captive.
Sweet scent of sunshine
Mutes the light traffic as
shadows play in the vibrant green
of the overhead maples.
His laugh
sudden though musical
Fills me with satisfaction
This boy with the blue eyes
and the pondering lips
Harbours a magnetic pull
The north
Which attracts my south
His mind a lacework
Of thoughts thought far too much
Far too often
But always real, always true
which is rare, in any blue eyed boy.
Dec 2015 · 311
Clear Eyes
WoodsWanderer Dec 2015
The silent starry slipper of night
folded us as the quilts folded our confused limbs
feet disembodied, elbows touching
skin kissing everywhere and nowhere
Lips full like the ripe plums of autumn
smiling and taunting as we laughed
I knew.
and I think she did too,
I think she felt the electricity that danced between our beings
coming to a paramount.
I know I did.
I know I had been half planning the way I would reach
Graze her jawbone, the soft skin beneath her ear,
The daring nip of her lobe which would give way to
Whispered sighs as sensual as the silk of the night sky
The release of four years tension.
I planned the way I would hold the soft animal of her body
Wrists captive, legs pinned
Teasing.
I planned to ignite her body as she had mine
with touches that had been oppressed for far
Too.
Long.

What I didn't plan was the stars
so soft, enchanting, secretive
to flip my intestines like coils of grease
to rip free my facade
to allow her eyes
god her eyes.
To see me.
What I didn't plane was soft utterances
Admissions
From her seductive, irresistible lips
that didn't serve to satisfy
but to torture.
What I didn't plan was her thin sheet of denial
of sharp, distracting, self deprecating humor
to fall to unsuppressed truth...
What I didn't plan was to finally
Finally
See her.
Dec 2015 · 302
Skin
WoodsWanderer Dec 2015
The twitch underneath a layer of pink flesh
long golden hairs mimicking the movement of shape
beneath the surface
the stretch of synapses firing to nervous system, to joint, to muscle
the journey
one
little
movement
causes.
The wrinkled edges of cells folding over
sharp delineated veins that chord her arms
tightly coiled ropes of blood
pumping from her troubled heart to her tired mind
all of these motions apart of this amazing
mind blowing vessel called the human body.
The muscles
which cry and scream (either in protest or exultation she can never tell)
as the notes flow from shaken speakers to dancers feet
the long low run through grasses too yellow to be pillaged
past the man with the faded hat and kitten grin
to the bed she lay him in.
the motion of fingers as they slide over rough-hewn skin
Skin that caresses back and Lips.
Lips sliding with trembled precision to sweet
forgotten spots on this amazing vessel
of blood, bone, heat.
The rumble of senses opening
moistening
lips still searching, taking, demanding
of him.
The jagged whispered phrases that were lost to rumpled sheets
and the cold, distant starry sky.
This skin, which aches for him is but a vessel of love
to release and open
Engulf the sensual sensations of lust
that mirrors the silky robe of darkness that wraps their bodies.
Beautiful Bodies.
Skin, blood, bones, heat.
To reveal something sacred
to the both of them.
Dec 2015 · 425
Midnight Essay Write
WoodsWanderer Dec 2015
No. I do not want to write my essay
I cannot sit for the third night
of the ninth day
of the bizillionth hour
and stare at a blank screen
at the cursor blinking my empty brain back at me
I do not want to attempt to sound intelligent
Suave and Eloquent
like the snake of a book I am trying to tame.
No. I do not want to write my essay
I would much rather sit
wrapped in the warmest quilt I can find
with the hottest cup of homemade chai
and drink up all the poetry I can.
Feel the wonderful
free musical language roll around in my brain
Roll off my ******* beautiful cascade of
melodious letters.
Research Pablo Neruda instead of Joseph Conrad
And bathe in ryhmes instead of lectures.
No. I do not want to write my essay.
Even though 3000 words seem minor
Are minor
I am having a rather difficult time at this point.
My procrasination is getting the better of me
and I would rather write about writing my essay
then actually write it

— The End —