Ask a smoker to join you for a cigarette
One last one before a good nights rest
and the answer will inevitably be yes
Some people smoke, some drink, and some are all about the illicit
My chosen affliction is your love.

All good, well-versed, professional addict knows
rehab is for quitters
I want nothing more than to overdose
on the most powerful high:
your kisses and hugs.
To melt in to a puddle
with you,
there is nothing better

and nothing worse than withdrawal.
They say the first few days are terrible
I've been hooked on you, and all I can tell you is
please enable me.
I can feel the cold days approaching,
my nose runs and my stomach churns.
This is not going to be an easy turn
I can only hope,
I can only pray,
That a dose will be ready when I return on the 25th, my most awaited day

Soft gray waves crashing on the shore of us
and how serene do you ride the inconsistent night tide.
I am the observer, the witness to your grace, the recorder of time that bides
Slow, indigo transcends to a cool tranquil hue
The pacific shadows accent the stormless body beside me, and I wish to leave her undisturbed but I cannot be so standstill, despite such clarity and clearheadedness you bestow upon me.
Azure quickly washes away when warm gold blankets my affectionate one.
You tasked me to find an answer for why I cannot sleep:
you dawn sunrise and radiate natural regality that even the royal Sun
could not deny that you wear a crown of brilliance.

I miss my cargo green canvas backpack

Shredded with the mass of three
science textbooks: biology,
classical history, chemistry.

Not like backpack was meant for
several colossal three hundred page
hardcover books.

When it was empty,
it was light,
barely anything, tugging
on my shoulders;
but I insisted the friend come with me.

But I used backpack
for study,
drudgery,
play.
The linen wore
with every use.

It was my safety blanket,
under loose cloth
that contained
sacarine
orange glucose
tablets that I hoped
to never need

Inside the main large pocket,
there was a secret
zipper, within held
a pack of cigarettes,
an excuse,
to pardon myself into a realm of aloneness-
with little questions asked

There were strings that adjusted
its position on my back that
I would pull down,
using tension to fling myself
terminal to terminal

More than fifteen times, I lost
count, of my partner traversing
across oceans, gently cradling my laptop and phone-
my trusted links
with the outside world

Nervousness alleviated by the tassels
in my mouth, I bite and chew
on the cloth, but it holds steadfast
as I ponder how to approach
what's next,
the bittersweet coffee they fell into
rehydrates with my salivating mouth,
hungry for adventure
but a stomach empty
knots itself
anxious
for what's to come

My backpack weighs
on my shoulders, empty or full,
but it's trained my body
to carry the load thoughts in my
head bring upon me

But it yielded to what was to come,
the seams at the bottom gave out.
Backpack let me know: I needed to
learn to carry on
without reliance.

In a time,
when men were the superheroes,
born in an unconventional location,

a young girl, unknown to the future
she was destined to,
was born with a uniqueness
unfound in all people, a superpower
of empathy
and as she grew,

the world knew
she was imbued
as a living embodiment of legends:

Athena's wisdom,
beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite,
conversational skills that made Hermes envious,
and strength that Hercules
could never attain.

As she approached an age, when her parents would
trust her to be guardian,
her powers manifested.
This incredible child was now a woman.

With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge
poison that had afflicted a person,
even their hearts,
a God-given gift for those most sacred;
her correspondences exponentially developed,
able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature,
this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity.

Now, fully grown, this super-no-

This Wonder Woman had retired her duties
to save the world, not forsake it, but,
to train Wonder Girl, her daughter,
to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her.

She still looks up at the Higher Power
and realizes her duty to provide
the world justice is not over
but only beginning.

Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged
and was gifted
a bulletproof bracelet,
forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction
of all that is wise and healing.

Given to her to wear
so that nothing could halt her
as she continues
her fate to provide the world a humanity
that could only come from
an intrinsically true
dear heart.

I could never pen a string of words
Sentences
Idioms and general verbosity
that will be capture your beauty like a photo

I could never capture an angle
Lighting
Aperture and timing
that will capture your vivaciousness like a video

I could never record a motion
Expression
Presence and fluidity
that will project your nature
like being by your side

Don't lie to me.
No-no don't start with me.

I know what you did.

Denial, denial.

Oh,
you're getting tired
of this?

I'm sorry,
let me get you a coffee
cause we're just beginning.

It's not your fault?
How could I not believe you
and think you are lying
with those patiently-worn
innocent eyes and enchanting
words?
Not.

I can see it
clearly the panic
dilating pupils.

Scared now?
Yeah,
your massive pupils are
giving it all away.
You're clearly guilty.

Now fess up.
Make this easier on the both of us.
I don't wanna stand here
all day and have to berate you
when we both know you're just

gonna cave and admit to it.
You're the culprit.

What? You're saying that's a baseless accusation?
Ha! Tell that to the two way mirror!

They can see
your arms stretched out,
palms facing up
on the table like an image of Christ
pleading mercy.

Ha!
More like Mary Magdalene
begging for forgiveness
for her sins.
Classic pose,
pretending to be naïve.

Don't let those
deep
brown
eyes
swell,
those tears won't work on me.

I know
what you've done!
I saw
you do it!
I have
the proof!

What? You're demanding to see it?
Fine!
I'll take you
to the crime scene
but you're not to touch anything.
Cold steel cuffs oughtta keep you right.
Come with me,
keep up by my side.

Look at this mess!
How can you even want to see this, you psychopath?
Proud of your work, Huh?

There- on that wall- you can see
where it started.
The back of this man's head, looks like somehow
it was blown open from the back of his skull,

probably,
that's when his amygdala took the hit

and ended up in some mental odyssey
and just let you have your godforsaken way
with his disabled mind.

But then you had to keep going, didn't you?
You dragged him,
look at the bruises on shoulder blades, big and wide,
obviously had to wrap your arms around him,
squeezing his dead body.
You couldn't move someone
bigger than you so you used everything in you
and brought him to his knees
right
at this permanently stained couch.

This whole thing is ridden with evidence.

Oh, and now you say:
you didn't mean to?

This scene too graphic for you?

Maybe you should take a close look at how
you and his fingers are both broken!
What kind of altercation was that?
He already looked dead by then and you-
you held him laced to you after all
that damage?

The poor man was ******
from the moment his curious eyes saw
your sweetness.  

And, after all that,
you had the audacity
to bruise his neck?
Was that your intention to **** him,
make sure he died?
Or just torture him

till he begged
for sweet release,
sadist.
You must have given him just that

judging by how his skull is split
and not even in two,
but a complete desecration.
I mean look at the clear
weaving of neurons from hemisphere to hemisphere!

The thoughts
that he could musta had could only be
beyond manic
after this tryst.

I guess at that point
you felt bad enough for
the charmed fellow
you decided that was it,
to finish with him.

****, I don't know how you even did  this.
Rib cage broke and bones sticking straight out of his chest
and his heart gone?

You seem like those
succubus, straight from mythology.
The ones that seem
all innocent then eat the heart of a man.
I bet that's what you did.

I've heard on National Geographic that there were
people who believed
you could take a person's soul
and have it become part of you.
But to literally do such a thing?

Ugh, just
look.
Those cherubic eyes,
they're showing nothing
but contentment.
You're absolutely insane
for the satisfaction you have.

You need not say anything more.

Now, you have to live with yourself and your delusional beliefs.
At least,
in some twisted way,
that poor child will forever live on, even if it is for an eternity
captivated by you.

Yes, kiss my neck.
No, don't go back to my lips.

Give me more of your warm, wet air against my goosebump covered neck.
Bury your face into me.
More!
let me show you
just how much.

Yes!
right at the base of my neck where it meets my chest

Don't be shy,
I don't care if the world can see this tomorrow.
Actually, bruise me,
make sure
they all can see
it feels so
much better with that
assertion.  

I don't need to see anymore, just let me relish the bright blindness of eyes shut tight
I'll figure you out with my hands.

Yes! press your tongue against me in that seal you made with your lips.

And yes, the only time I want you to stop laying those kisses is for
an audible breath.

Better yet a small moan
when my hands slide under your rough denim and past your soft jagged ridges of lace,
a strong grip and squeeze of your ***.

That's it..
Now you're setting me off.
Yes, I want flesh on flesh.
No, I'm done with this hesitation
and your shirt.
I don't need mine either.
Actually, you can stop making my blood rush
through my neck.
Better only be for a moment though
while our hands grasp
for whatever part of our shirts to pull them off.

Yes, crawl further up me
let me feel your heating skin
against my blood boiled body.

No, don't just crawl-
straddle me
like this.

Actually, that sly lick against my earlobe made me groan.
Better yet
move your hips like- yes! just like that.

And Yes, we're still wearing too many clothes.
And yes, exactly, fix that problem.

No! I'm not done with those lips quite yet.
Exactly. That's the spot and don't you stop.

Actually-no-yes!-what was I saying?

Oh- that's right,
better yet,
turn around-but don't let go of me with your tongue and kiss-
my tongue also wants a taste. Y-yes..!