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Sienna Burroughs May 2017
"I don't like it when beautiful things go away."
I will never forget the way your eyes looked, grazing over every inch of me, stopping at my eyes,
That blue hit me like ice,
But I still felt warm.

I will shake hands with strangers,
and think nothing of it.
Yet when your fingertips brush the softest places on my neck,
I wonder if I really have ever touched anyone at all.

I will look into hundreds of eyes on any given day.
Watch words pour from many different mouths.
None as magnetic as yours.

"You make it so hard to want to leave."

I have never driven home with every single human piece of me feeling like a live wire.
Never, have I felt someone light something so small,
To have it burn through my body like wildfire.
I'm afraid I never will again.
Sienna Burroughs Oct 2014
Infinite, iridescent ribbons
Spinning out around us.

With every word you let slip,
I dare say I see every hue,
Drifting closer to me,
and you.

They speed up with every second of anticipation,
Wrapping tightly around our skins sensation.

But somehow, these mingling ties,
they cannot bind me.
instead they move us.
A deep blue undertow, your eyes,
washing over my entirety.
Bright hot Scarlett's sweetly pulling us in,
Closing the only gap left between us,
now chest to chest.
white light, tracers at your mouths content.
silver as winters first gasping breath,
shivers as you reach for me again.

Our strings of thought do not break as they should.
Concoctions of enthrall,
tangling, mending, strengthening,
as you move to my hearts rapid beat.
Sienna Burroughs Oct 2014
Foggy, grey, misty mornings like today,
Your eyes, heavy with sleep,
As the cold air seeps,
Into the spaces in which my body was,
Just a moment prior, perfectly fit to yours.

The first weak slivers of daylight breaking through the weight of nights lingering cover,
A cold wet northern downpour awaiting me,
And all i can imagine ever feeling is this radiating warmth flowing through me,
Starting in my chest as i look to you,
Flaring through my lips as they gently brush yours,
Slowly ebbing away all the rough edges left tearing into me,
Filling me with a want for something i cannot even name...
Its a force, in you,
An inescapable presence in which you hold all of the desparity i own,
But have never once let me bear the weight of alone.
Sienna Burroughs Mar 2014
some things take time,
100 bottles of wine,
lovers of all kinds.

some things may never hit you just right,
bittersweet melodies,
beautiful in its own light,
perhaps at its best past midnight.

but you are not an acquired taste

and these may suffice, for some,
but passion...
it will never ease their long nights,
bashful whispers leaving so much to entice.

silken skin aching,
your hand on the back of my neck,
fingers trace that which they fear breaking,
delicacies of flesh we never have forsaken.

slipping into a dance,
you'd think we'd known it our entire lives,
your body and mine, spinning into a trance,
in step, in motion, thrilling me with just a glance.
kisses on my forehead,
4am, and i'm still in his bed.
he loves that i'm well read,
"oh honey its not like we're dead."

but he is not an acquired taste

they will never know our craving,
for the life of each other,
and even if we're both caving,
no one here needs saving.
Sienna Burroughs Feb 2014
Spitefully contorted prosecutions,
In the form of attachments,
Anchors tied to our ankles,
You know as well as I,
With fear, we wrought them,
Afraid we'd be left to rot without them.
"No man is an island" said someone.
          But we are,
Storm waters, currents, possibilities,
           Any direction,
           No direction,
           No shorelines,
           No light,
Let alone an end to the tunnels we've dug out,
And lost our souls in.  

In an ocean wide oblivion we reach for the smallest commiserations, you sought my condolences,
Grasping onto me for one steady breath,
And in what looked to you like your grip slipping,
Drowning without meaning,
I saw a slight slip, in a battle,
With a heaviness as ingrained as the need,
To survive,
To swim out to open sea.

But honesty begs me to tell you,
I never was a swimmer,
And I can only loose so much ground,
Before I, myself, start to drown.
Maybe, when your feet next touch,
I won't love in the form of metaphors,

Until then,
I'll see your vastness, raise you a lostness,
And challenge you,  
to a race through everything,
Life can throw in our faces,
                                          To change us,
                                                            Amaz­e us.
And maybe, just maybe,
I'll see you on some sunny day by the water,
Drifting to me,
Finally in awe of the undertow,
You fought,
                      For so very long.
Sienna Burroughs Jan 2014
Icy control, faltering under solar flares of the tension of touch,
glacial poles of mistrust crumbling under tidal waves of paradise warm waters.
You're washing over every sharp edge,
and the rough planes of frozen fear.
You have stolen times breath,
seconds crashing to a halt as your hand rests gently in my lap.
Heat radiating through every lie i have accepted as agony,
shaking free rigid ice chips clinging to last insecurities.
your fingertips untangling knots in my hair and heavy heart,
as i nervously await the moment the moon's gravity overcomes you,
pulling you onto better places,
jagged landscapes you can slowly break into something softer,
just as you molded my defenses from menacing to enamoring.
I will always love the way you turn stone walls to sand with a single kiss on my neck.
You have left me a changed scene,
but the vulnerabilities you left me with,
are the only sure sign i have that you were ever here at all.
But as the earth must keep turning,
and the seasons must change,
i know you will return,
to kiss my shorelines alive,
as i shake under all of the intricacies that own you,
and right then,
i'll melt with you all over again.
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