i start to mourn it
when its not over.
my body leaves traces
of unspoken distortions
of reality in motion:

our first kiss, our first
date, our first hopes and
mistakes, will they matter
in the long run, will they
turn into a free fall?

trying to cherish what we
have gone through i feel
so isolated by your unspeakable
truths, your saddened distance
is a blessing in disguise: i fear

i can not look you any longer in
the eyes. your remarkable sighs,
the silence that stomps on the tip
of your tongue whenever i tell you
all i want is to talk, all i want is to

have you, feel you close, make you
promise i am the one thing you really,
really want. i find myself wondering if
that's all because i never had you in
the first place: i wouldn't be begging

you to tell me if you were truly mine,
if you were on my side. i feel unloved
and unlovable, it's not your fault if
you don't show what you can't show,
it's not your fault. all i've ever wanted

in this life was to feel that someone chose
me, prioritized me over everything and
everyone: i've prayed for that kind of thing
to happen with the desperation of a small
insect not to be pushed against the wall.

that will ultimately be my downfall: to still
believe i am not worthy if i am not being
loved, to believe life was meant to be lived
in love, haven't i had enough? i spend days
paralysed in bed, crying my eyes out to the

memory of a future tense in which you are
something i can come to, a home, a haven,
a muddy love letter. i can no longer wait
for you to be mine. you've never wanted that.
yet i don't want to be alone, i don't want to let

it go. why should i speak hard truths when i can
devour sweet blindness? why should i believe
it's over? lingering has always been my worst
and best endeavour. i just wish you made the effort.
staying would be less painful.

The way her body pulls me in,
a velvet vice, where we begin,
heat rising fast, I lose control,
her depths consume my very soul.

Each pulse, each throb, a final plea,
to fill her with all that’s left of me,
a flood of fire, molten, wild,
claiming her like Earth claims the Nile.

Her thighs, a canvas, streaked and wet,
our lust’s reminder, can’t forget,
the trails we leave, the mess we make,
the way she trembles, the way we quake.

She moves, and every step’s a tease,
her warmth, my mark, between her knees,
she holds me there, a living shrine,
to moments shared, her body mine.

And when she whispers, low and true,
"I’m still yours, I feel it too,"
the world dissolves, just her and me,
lost in the tide of ecstasy.

your smile confounds:
how it opens at my touch
yet, closes softly,
like a snare that traps my defiance;

                            - keeps me modest.

i adore how your lower lip spasms with desire,
while your upper lip struggles to hide it.
i know there’s more to your smile,
for i have kissed you -
with an undying thirst
that respawns at the close of day.

i’ll forever be in awe -
of the benevolence you summon
with your subtleties;

                          - keeps me honest.

i long for your smile;
i long for your love;
i long for another day -
with you.

It must take hate to love me.
Despise me with passion.
Loathe me into proving,
That all I think is wrong.

If hating me is what it takes,
To motivate the change,
To be who You want to be,
I’ll be the villain for you.

If my tears will bring you joy,
you need my blood to bathe.
Take me in your arms,
And gently slice my neck.

A Monday night thriller:
His wife was the killer
The steel pierced his chest
And time did the rest

He thought it was hidden:
A dual life, forbidden
But, time had remarked
Another love, sparked

A culprit was shown
The "friend" she had known
Had crafted a lie
And made him her guy

The second girl learned
That vengeance still burned
She let her inside
That night, three had died...

His tongue moves slow, with a purpose so sweet,
Circling her pearl, where desire and heat meet.
Inhales her scent, her arousal laid bare,
Each stroke of his tongue is a lover’s affair.

Every flick, every taste, ignites her, to invite in inside,
A symphony of pleasure and desire waiting to collide.

His tongue moves slow, deliberate tease,
Circling her, savoring the scent with please.
A flick, a taste, my arousal’s heat,
His mouth, her ****, a rhythmic treat.

Up and down in a steady flow,
Two strokes a second, driving her low.
Her swollen lips throb, each flick divine,
Every touch claiming this body as his.