I have scars and imperfections,
but despite them, you told me
I'm ****.

Well baby, that was your mistake.

Now,
I want you to ****** me.

You'll give me a flash of that crooked smile and a playful wink,
your golden eyes filled with desire and lust.

Your hand will gently brush my cheek, then you'll stare into my eyes,
down at my lips,
and back into my eyes again.

You know, how I long for your touch.

But before I can draw breath,
lips are upon lips,
and in that instant,
I am yours, your kiss is like a
poison I can't get enough of.

How about this?

Just for tonight, you and I,
heavy breathing, sweat trickling
down your spine and
our bodies intertwined,
writing poetry beneath your
bedsheets.

I wonder
how many words
have sat on the tip
of your tongue,
waiting to take the plunge
into the world outside,
but have held back
in fear of the fall-

and I wonder
how different your life would be
had those words been set free.

I would have loved
to know
you searched the way
I did
That you dug for
every bit
there was to know
about me
That you scoured pages
upon pages
to see if there
was anything
you were missing from
my biography
That you hammered out
my name
in every search engine
known to
man That you wanted
to know
who I was connected
to and
how we were connected
That you
refreshed my social media
pages several
times per day just
to see
if there was anything
I forgot
to tell you. That
you calculated
the likelihood of my
emotions based
on the time and
what I
had been posting That
you thought
about my motives for
every post
every article every store
every movie
every question every curse
every call
every text every word
That you
spent at least some
of your
days completely cocooned in
the possibility
that I may be
someone entirely
different than who you
know just
for the sake of
wanting to
think about me further.
That you
might get so lost
in me
that you forget to
get lost
in you