The words of mud
All sleeping in crud
So, sleep no more
And this too strikes my chord
Be with me my adulation
Apart, you’re free, a toon pre recreation
Your curves, my words
And where the tears I wished we never had to imply
Aching, you’re hurt, my sigh
Please don’t blame me for my short sailings, what for lies in-between my thighs will leave you bailing
Again, the word of blame: our pain.
Not grievous not conniving, be it us apart I only want you to be thriving
A single word…driving
In love still, we shall stay, the neither inside her for one icky day mayday all-day
A mix to grave
We return to the soil
A broth of flavor and oil,
Stoic in details we plot to a plod on one-foot shoes lacing smiles spoiled like little children
Again, and only once more
…
I guess I owe you this
I owed you the spirit of a table and the warmth in embrace
You know me as only two others do but a storybook I will make, and only you will make the cut and I will write you true. Truly I’ve missed you. Not because; but enjoyment.
This employment meant a something
Not a ringing for attention for we are but two bodies and one soul
Two separate beautiful messes to test in side by side by side
One is me second is you and third is us
Though it is known how far we could go for one another
I wish it was me that you would hold
Please excuse exuding planet masses pleated in a patch of particles pointing toward either of us
On my back you would sleep, a beautiful beautiful pack
So soft and sweet like a baby sheep
These steps I have mentioned made of air touching your undercut waving hands in stares but staring at nothing; so blank.
So tired.
You’re the necessity and the burning in my chest
But with you…
…
…
There’s nothing left to do but rest