my projections are reflections
of all within my vessel
pushing outward.

is ju,st an exc:us:e
to a"voi"d using
punct. u.at!on
cor. rect.
ly

;)

my rhyme schemes
are often best
to be replaced
because you
can't hear me croon
in the afternoon
as I type out my feelings
alone in my room.

there is a world beyond the window:
to remember that the window is there
and to look out of it, is to come to the realization
that thoughts are small and actions are somewhat of a promise.

I guess
a shift,
can't
help
but
feel it.

"We're killing our bodies
while they're still capable
of being killed." -Said a teacher, said a friend.

"The only good thing you have left is yourself.
It's all a matter of the perspective you have of this
life." -Replied the other.

curiosity tainted
music's coursing wild through my veins

prelude to making love on pages

your soul opens, dark pools that flood my heart,
warm, balanced, alive and carefully sweet
(yet not too sweet,
the risk of letting go has been conquered,
  and the freedom prevails),
our dance is symmetrical as we shape into each other.

your skin teaches me how to be smooth
as the distinction between your hair
and your face fades,
just as your body and mine intertwine
until your hips are all I know and
your lips are all I see with my eyes closed.

a comfortable lack of noise apart from
the pleasure of breathing. I remember
every detail of the pounding flesh, the sweat
carving rivers on your chest, the kiss from
my neck to the breast.

I've never known a closeness such as this,
your gentle gaze has gripped my heart,
some times I want to tear it out
so as not to get overwhelmed by the beauty.

your love is art, and your expression is priceless.

I often find it difficult to hold myself back,
our love is raw, but I'd rather my ****** not be.