Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ja-Lynn Nicole Nov 2021
I won't say
that you're
“the one”

But I remember asking God
for black skin, red hair
and freckles

I mean
To be beautifully black
with hair adorned with fire
And exquisitely freckled skin
Ought to be a crime.

It's like God kissed you twice
And embellished you with the sun
Before sending you to earth
A king
To me
we were destined to be friends

you, my dear are a triple threat
it is hard not to get caught up
in the redness of your hair
and your big-lipped smile
when we are together

I try not to stare like a fool
But ****, Black man
must you be so fine.

You remind me
of my secret conversations with God
you are the image
of him
shaking his head at my request
but humoring me anyways
because He loves me so much
and while you’re here in my life
I am going to enjoy it

Every single moment, Red
Can I call you mine, Red?
as in
"My Red Bearded King"
Can I hold your hand
And kiss your lips
In appreciation of the Poet’s skilled hand
A ballad
Beautifully composed by the Creator
To be read by my lips
Slowly and intentionally
Opening my heart up
To every possibility of you

I won't say that you're
"the one"
But you can be
If you want
i have a friend. he is beautiful. Part of me is scared to dive farther than friendship because I don’t want to get my feelings hurt. Because of this, I am happy to be his friend and sit close to him without the complexities that come with being more than that. Now, don't get me wrong, I will be his if he will be mine. I will give myself to him if he’ll have me.
frog Sep 2021
I wish I could trace the freckles on your skin
even the ones I've never seen

I wish I could play with your auburn hair
or platinum, in your true form

I wish I could observe your icy eyes
without it being weird

I wish I could hold your hand
and trace circles with my thumb

I wish I could be less awkward
and tell you I love you
another one from the perspective of my dnd character heheheheh
noura Aug 2021
That unforgiving metal.
Within that unforgiving metal lies all the things you cannot forgive about yourself.
Those freckles on your chin that you wish would expand into a constellation so that you may give them names and so that you may give them meaning,
within that unforgiving metal.

The Greeks threw their hands towards the heavens
and deemed cosmic accidents worthy of the names of gods,
although within them lie no gifts.
Like a bedazzled and jaded Tiresias impostor one stumbles upon
on their way home,
who sees nothing but the tangible
and tells all but the truth.
Still, he is clad in diamonds and gold
and thus has value in trade.
Beauty triumphs over mendacity
and mendacity over reality.

But the freckles that mar your skin,
that you cannot transfigure into the most meaningless of stars or the crudest of answers,
sit there defiantly,
waiting to be acknowledged and waiting to be named.

You lean your forehead forward to rest against the cool smoothness of its idle twin.
You could swear you saw her sneer at you.
The freckles do not budge—they will consume you whole.
Lily Audra Jun 2021
Come on now,
Look at the buttercups,
So yellow, so yellow!
There's no happier colour than yellow,
It dispenses joy like an ice cream man,
Mr Whippy, Mr Softie, Mr Buttercuppy.
I love the smell of your skin,
Not your perfume, your skin,
Your arms are the sky,
A galaxy map of freckles and I'm going to press my face against them all,
I'm going to burn my nose and then cover it in cream,
Scratch my legs with thorns and brambles  and then cover them in cream,
I'm going to sneeze so much, seeds swelling my eyes,
Jugs of cold squash and sticky fingers and verdant footpaths,
I'm going to cycle with my eyes shut and the sun on my face,
Is there a better word than butter?
Bread and butter and buttercups,
Come on now, look at the buttercups.
Rosie Toes May 2021
I could spend hours counting the freckles on your face

if that meant I could spend hours close enough to you to see them
What a natural beauty freckles are. Embrace them
dorian green Mar 2021
i think what i'm trying to say is that
i wanna know what hand you write with.
that's what i'm interested in,
right, left, maybe even ambidextrous—
show me your birthmarks, and the
little scar you got when you were a kid.
there's a story in your body, on your skin,
and i want to listen to you tell it,
running my fingertips across your freckles
as if i were blind.
And he said that he knows for a fact:
Girls with freckles are happier.

And I told him I’ve heard
That one before,
But he said that he made it up on the spot,
In the bed we’ve made, our sheets less **** –
Creased and dimpled by our weighing bodies –  

When I nagged on him to tell me what he loves
About me on the inside,
Where we’re taught what counts,
Where you’re not allowed to ask,
Where sometimes it’s just too good not to.

On the inside, he listed:
Lungs, liver, ovaries perhaps –
The parts that everyone has,
The parts that can be left unspoken.
And I told him he’s a smart-***.

But on the outside, he touched my cheeks,
I love your freckles because they prove
You’ve lived
Felt the sun on your skin – it’s sunlight sprinkles, after all
Laughed so hard, as they are uneven and all around
That way maybe, every time, your laugh
Scattered them all.
You let me
Trace the stars
In your skin
With my fingertips
Like constellations
In the night sky
Alina Jan 2021
she looked unique and simple all at the same time. From her pale freckles forming constellations dancing across her nose to her honey colored eyes and lopsided smile. plain and breathtaking wrapped into  a little girl.
You’re never-ending freckles
I loved every last one

We’d explore your body
Looking for constellations
along the way
Turning your infinite freckles
into our own galaxies

Losing ourselves
in each other
Next page