i took pictures of everything i found pretty and maybe that’s why i had a million photos of you but there was never one of me

hungry and wanting,
our bodies move in the rhythm that we have learned to master in the short years of loving one another.
skin on skin,
uneven and shaky breathing,
fingernails clawing into your back,
your hand around my throat.
our bodies collide in an all too familiar fashion,
but the feeling is still so new and so fresh,
every moan that escapes our lips feels like the experience of watching the sun dip into the horizon,
beautiful and colorful and wild.
i don’t think any poem will remaster what we do behind closed doors,
but every word escaping my pen will try to tell the story of loving you touch by touch.

i've found myself swerving off the road when the sun is setting.
when splashes of orange, pink, yellow spray across the summer sky my eyes wander away from the road and i'm lost in the color.
i've risked my life just to catch a glimpse of heaven's painting, and i think that's how it is every time i look at you.
i chase sunsets like i chase you,
always wanting to see more of you and not being able to stop myself.
you're as beautiful as a sunset,
and i'll keep chasing you until i crash.

the scars on my skin will linger on my body like the stars in the clear night sky,
lighting up a blank canvas until the sun finds its way back to hide it.
but the like the stars,
my scars will always be there,
masked only by a light that will eventually die out.

you throw up just to rinse your mouth out with another beer.