you're dangerous
but i like it
loving you
touching you
soaking you in
it's like licking chocolate
off of a knife

you draw blood
and then you dance in it
leaving red footprints
**all over my skin

by definition,
lust is
extreme ****** desire for someone

by nature,
lust is
uncontrollable...
I'm attracted to my thirty-seven year old male teacher
and my eighteen year old male coworker
and the quirky girl who sits behind me in history,
what?

by religion,
lust is
a sin, punishable by Hell,
whatever that is.

lust is unavoidable,
but socially unacceptable to act upon.

Passion is:
Tea tree oil seeping through a crack in the bottle.
The opening guitar rift during a band’s first tour.
Your favorite spice spilt from a loosened cap.
The half-lighted dynamite stick within the glass body.
The timeless, physical tension before the first kiss.
A hundred, helium balloons held down by one string.
The hallucinating genius who trades sleep for progress.


Passion is the restrained ambitions of the insanely devoted.

I** fall in love with passion.

The way someone's face lights up when they talk.
The way they can't get enough of something they really, really like.
The way they thirst for adventure and experience.
The way they never stop dreaming and believing because they have that much faith that it will, one day, be worth it.
The way they always build people up and make others feel like they're floating on clouds.
The way they do things they may not love, for the people they love.

And that's why I've fallen in love with you.

ocean of passion profound
between me and you
my heart drifts
and my words drown

...slowly

reality and imagination blur
deep down there
silence sounds like a prayer
and seconds seize to occur

Set fire to my mind
before you warm my heart
I cannot survive
by your touch alone
Ignite my thoughts
into firey passion
or walk through the darkness
alone

Stop bugging me as I sleep!
You plague me with weird dreams
You confuse with random thoughts
You leave me dazed as I wake.
Get away from me, you creep!
Everything's not as it seems
You tangle my brain in knots
Were you born as a mistake?
(Though at times you make me weep;
In nightmares I'm made to scream)
I guess you've taught me a lot
You are my glue when I break.
When I'm too afraid to leap
When all's dull, and nothing gleams
As I escape to your spot
You make me smile as I ache.

Her lips spoke the language of his deepest thoughts and his wildest dreams
His words built her. Every stroke of his pen, every punctuation mark.
Every sentence written.
She fell for the way he looked at her when he perfected each word.
She desired the way his lips parted during mid thought.
The fire during each frustration drove her mad.
His flawless descriptions drew her in.
Her hands met his and their words collided.

-Lily P. McLaughlin-