Blue shirt I can’t trust a boy like you. Sectarian sympathiser, driving brothers apart.
I see a glint in your eye whenever I lean in for the unanswered kiss self-assuredness is your favourite
amuse bouche. Nice with a fine wine tastes a little like shellfish. Picpoul de Pinet for a girl that’s hardy on the outside.
Just when I am starting to turn purple on the lips you breathe air into me and hide again.
----------
Believe me, there’s red in these veins and flames in my lungs. Your eyes
eye me up, river blue. Chip fat and *** smoke make out for a foul cloud but girl, you’re the pearl of the night.
Your mouth is the glossy phone I should answer, wanting love on a tongue like a pillow of wine.
When you grip my shirt, expect to connect, I end up pouring out puddles of nothing, your lips apart like violets.
Written: June 2017. Explanation: A collaboration piece with fellow poet and friend Molly (https://hellopoetry.com/molly-5/). The first four verses of this poem are written by her, while the second four are written by myself. The poem deals with intimacy - one person wants it, the other is a little reluctant to give it. My piece is intended to reflect elements mentioned in Molly's piece. Feedback is very welcome and appreciated on this. The poem should also be found on Molly's own page. I recommend you check out her other work. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page. NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.