I cut myself on the future
I thought of kissing your picture
I detached myself from
lullabies and sorry eyes
only to realize:
I want to make love to you in November,
just before the empty of December.
Where snow blankets
and suffocating leaf-beds
aren't the only dreams
to fall asleep in our heads.
I could hear your voice trip
as my hands started to drip
around your hips and thighs-
You could tranquilize
with your lips and byes.
You look so sleepy-headed
Many words I have threaded
to weave a dream
desperately
but you prefer my
reality.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
I cut myself on the future
I thought of kissing your picture
I detached myself from
lullabies and sorry eyes
only to realize:
I want to make love to you in November,
just before the empty of December.
Where snow blankets
and suffocating leaf-beds
aren't the only dreams
to fall asleep in our heads.
I could hear your voice trip
as my hands started to drip
around your hips and thighs-
You could tranquilize
with your lips and byes.
You look so sleepy-headed
Many words I have threaded
to weave a dream
desperately
but you prefer my
reality.
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