If only you could see yourself the way I see you;
the air would taste bitter, every motion that
didn’t emanate a passion for you would feel
forced and every moment would be spent
on unfulfilled wishes for your attention.
The way you walk intoxicates me,
your feet moving as if you were
oblivious to your own beauty.
There’s an innocence to you
that I want to burn away;
I want to kiss that smile
until it has meaning, to
hold that body until it
realizes what it can
do. Your curves
are equations
that I plot
in my
mind, your
eyes are dreams
I’ve held on to for
years. Your touch is
locked away under the
oldest memory I have,
a vault that I visit
when I need to
remember that
there is good
in this world;
that you are still
here, not for
me, but here
nonetheless.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 9:18 PM UTC
If only you could see yourself the way I see you;
the air would taste bitter, every motion that
didn’t emanate a passion for you would feel
forced and every moment would be spent
on unfulfilled wishes for your attention.
The way you walk intoxicates me,
your feet moving as if you were
oblivious to your own beauty.
There’s an innocence to you
that I want to burn away;
I want to kiss that smile
until it has meaning, to
hold that body until it
realizes what it can
do. Your curves
are equations
that I plot
in my
mind, your
eyes are dreams
I’ve held on to for
years. Your touch is
locked away under the
oldest memory I have,
a vault that I visit
when I need to
remember that
there is good
in this world;
that you are still
here, not for
me, but here
nonetheless.
love, life, poem, poetry, prose,