She makes herself present when you need her most,
not to boast, but this tasty delight will treat you well as she continues to host.
She doesn’t give herself away too much,
****, if it was up to me I’d cop more than a touch;
A squeeze, a whole late night session, to indulge in her taste of imperfections,
Eat her up til I obtain a dental infection.
Not my intention, but her silhouette alone breeds thoughts of sin,
what I would give, to have her all to myself, wouldn’t know where to begin.
Undress her slowly as she teases me,
And repeatedly, she teaches me to treat her with care and show some decency.
But I can’t concentrate, she has my mind in a figure-four,
I'm a carnivore, but she exposes her flesh and I want more and more.
Its all been done before, but in this moment I’m in bliss,
I reminisce, as I write this, and continue to lick her residue off my lips.
She brings so much variety, all of them eyeing me,
Which will I give into as I inspect each of them quietly.

Sometimes she comes bittersweet, sometimes she’s a freak,
But most of the time she’s in a bad mood cuz I just wana beat, or rather eat.
Our relationship is never bland, she always keeps it fresh and new,
If it gets monotonous she won’t even hesitate to bring a friend or two.
She keeps my hands full, and that’s no easy achievement,
But she brings so much to the table its hard to not fiend it.
My favorite color on her, has to be green, not to be obscene,
But I’d tear her up as if though she was in a different team, knowwhatimean?
And after that delight there wouldn’t be much of her left,
Not to be greedy but Im not sharing until I know there’s more to come next.
If not, I’m vexed, I mean, I’m not addicted but I wouldn’t mind another round,
That’s not being spoiled I just want to know what other delights could be found.
Don’t be selfish and sadden me,
give me a taste so I can eat you up casually.
Oh miss candy, you’re just too fancy,
let me get a grip and I’ll put you on the walls like Bansky.

Baring their souls on a bare page,
People can be so poetic.
I wish we spoke like this in real life.
But only sometimes,
let's not get too crazy.
Would it change anything?
Would beautiful phrases make a beautiful face?
Could i tell you everything I've ever wanted to,
because i like the way the words feel pushing through my lips?
I'm not sure.
But I guess we'll find out.

Like a scarecrow he stands there,
His legs bow backwards,
Only a tad,
And he ponders what the air would taste like,
If we could all sing the song of rising suns,
But in the corner of his bloodshot eyes,
One bead of blue forms,
And it ran down his cheek,
Onto his arm and off it,
To land on his black jeans,
Whose threads were so tight his feet felt fuzzy,
But he did not care,
This was the pair,
She kissed him with.

The salty ocean air bit his ears.
He went inside.
And slept.

*It’s just not fair.

My vow has been taken,
To not speak too much.

If they ask how you are they really do care.

Sleep is for the weak.
But I must be weak.

Viva tu vida sin tristeza*

Bold statement but I tire.

Goodnight for now soft sleepwalker.

Yesterday,
On the patio of that coffee joint,
I saw a girl with your timber hair,
I stopped,
    I stared,
        I studied.
But it was not you,
    Thank God.

My friends saw me staring,
Two knew why.
One asked,
    “What is the story of you two?”
I told him,
    I traced back,
        I tightened up.
I cursed a lot,
    I gave the truth of it all.

We have a long story.
I wonder if it’s as long for you.