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Jun 28
The window panes are
grey and trickling with raindrops.
They race one another, falling into
a downward spiral.
Some meet halfway, kiss and
drip quietly.
My bones are held together
with iced coffee and cigarettes.
My skin is the color of summer
gold and lust,
glittering.
My eyes are deep in wonder
swimming with the face of
a boy I can barely remember meeting.
He's not a boy; a man in his element
the son of the sea
and his tattooed arms have
clutched the remains of my ever growing
heart and mind.
This is not love
No one can love me,
I am rain and thunder, the daughter of the air and the sea.
I am wind and glaring sunlight, the warrior of fire and dusk.
But he came gliding in
like a wolf in the night.
His yellow eyes, those ******* eyes
I see them in between my legs.
Moaning your name is my only recluse
My only refuge in the deepest, darkest
most pornographic areas of this,
multifaceted diamond of a mind.

I hate what you've done to me,
imagining
wanting
needing
your rough hands on my
body.

Just **** me, **** me and use me
while the thunder roars
and the raindrops race each other
and kiss me, bruise my petal lips
with your Marlboro tinted ones
until we're out of breath,
until we're drained.

One night isn't enough,
monsoon season.
Ayesha Jimenez
Written by
Ayesha Jimenez  24/F/Philippines
(24/F/Philippines)   
228
   Jules
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