Your warmth
My habitual coldness
Skin to skin
Fast heartbeats
Unsatisfied hands
Soft kisses
Now passionately racing
Delicate touches
Now desirous grabs
Our bodies pressed together
Your hands tangled in my hair
My hands wrapped around the curves of your shape
The very shape you don’t know is perfect
You use harsh eyes to critique the beauty
Your eyes roll when I acknowledge your art
It’s okay, you don’t know yet
You haven’t looked outside to see the heavenly grace
You can’t see how you make sunsets jealous
Or how the waves quiver next to you
But that’s why i’m here.
So my lips will trace every line of you
A painter adoring their masterpiece
Until the day your eyes soften
And you feel what my hands have been saying all along
That you aren’t just a perfect picture
You’re the gallery, the sunrise, the ocean, the song.
And here I’ll stay…
To worship and to burn.
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 6:42 PM UTC
Your warmth
My habitual coldness
Skin to skin
Fast heartbeats
Unsatisfied hands
Soft kisses
Now passionately racing
Delicate touches
Now desirous grabs
Our bodies pressed together
Your hands tangled in my hair
My hands wrapped around the curves of your shape
The very shape you don’t know is perfect
You use harsh eyes to critique the beauty
Your eyes roll when I acknowledge your art
It’s okay, you don’t know yet
You haven’t looked outside to see the heavenly grace
You can’t see how you make sunsets jealous
Or how the waves quiver next to you
But that’s why i’m here.
So my lips will trace every line of you
A painter adoring their masterpiece
Until the day your eyes soften
And you feel what my hands have been saying all along
That you aren’t just a perfect picture
You’re the gallery, the sunrise, the ocean, the song.
And here I’ll stay…
To worship and to burn.
Para mi sol
9/1/2020
