The way your voice curled around my name,
as if those letters were not alone and bare.
Instead, they were ribboned, edged with memories and something more than love.

Love her like
She's the raging sea,
Unrestrained and dark and deep.
And you crave her touch
Through aching pores
As you slowly drown in sleep.

Love her like
She's the tender storm,
A lovely shade of grey.
Like with every whiff
Of breath she takes,
She's taking yours away.

Love her like
She's the silent clouds
With calmness floating by.
Like you'd want to make
Sweet love to her
Under the moon's apocalyptic eye.

Love her like
She's the blazing fire,
And you lust the candied pain.
Like she's the disease
That swallowed you whole
And you'd like to die again.

When her gentle touch
Makes your chest explode,
And your addiction is your girl.
Promise you'll love her
Through hell and back,
Or don't you dare love her at all.

but reading poetry takes me
more effort
than writing out my ****** thoughts
and splitting them into lines
And now it's time to sleep
because, you know,
taking care of myself

I can only think in
half formed metaphors,
and before I know it
they're
gone.
But,
I bet
if I wrote down every
eloquent phrase I thought up
and stitched them together,
they'd make a
romance novel.