Mother! Mother! You doubt my senses
I have barely lived two decades
pulling thorns off my heart's delicate petals
I am scythed around the stem
and smothered deep in the roots
Riding these tidal waves of breath for survival.

O senses!
O senses!

Darling! You said my love was irrelevant
but to this day I celebrate it, watering
dried daffodils on the green outskirts of your shirt
to savour your scent of six months ago
Each drop of sweat on your face
as you dug a tunnel into my very soul
and took over this fleshy frame
O irrelevance!
O irrelevance!

I have trudged a dozen miles in the horizon
barefoot, bareskin, bare minded
Bathed at the gracious hand of sun
in the endless sea of love the earth sold
at one heartbreak per drop.

O earth!
O love!

Press your hands against my skin
Caress
To feel your warmth
I'd die again
You are the ghost
Of a dream
Your hands the touch
What I need
Crave
You.

Move your hands along my spine
Whisper
Feel your breath against mine
To feel alive
Make me please
Feel alive if just one more time
But a dream
Only of
your hands.

She laid on the bed and opened the cover to her book, and I began to read, consuming myself with each ****** that ensued.

The words from her pages began to get louder and wilder with every flick of my moist finger, my tongue felt heavy with an appetite - an insatiable hunger for a good book.

I read until she began to unravel at the spine and covers began to submit to its own weight, she could not let me read another drop, her final words on her last chapter were good.

Neon ******* and spiraling chests.
Smokey vision of reflected collisions.

A sauna of bodies,
minds, and seductive jests.

Sinking to the sky,
opening my minds eye.

I've never not always,
forever seen,
absently been,
in the now that is here.

A glow from above can only show,
we are the clouds and the mist of the moon,
swaying in trance to that which we hardly know.

Because we have always been the now,
never not always seen,
consistently been,
the yesterday that is tomorrow.