contort your stature.

avert your eyes.

love with your smile
but
not with your mouth.

teeter on bedframes

for lack of restraint.

hold yourself, dear
&
say no names.

touch

fine lines

but only dream.




dream of pressure

on your spine
&
cold hands

anywhere.

press lips

on broken bones
&
beg for attention.

clean your mouth out
&
don't speak.

nails to sheets

for you

wander
not
stray

reflect upon

lungs heaving

heavy

as

sin
&
untouchable.

Stay With Me Tonight
by Michael R. Burch

Stay with me tonight;
be gentle with me as the leaves are gentle
falling to the earth.
And whisper, O my love,
how that every bright thing, though scattered afar,
retains yet its worth.

Stay with me tonight;
be as a petal long-awaited blooming in my hand.
Lift your face to mine
and touch me with your lips
till I feel the warm benevolence of your breath’s
heady fragrance like wine.

That which we had
when pale and waning as the dying moon at dawn,
outshone the sun.
And so lead me back tonight
through bright waterfalls of light
to where we shine as one.

Originally published by The Lyric. Keywords/Tags: love, stay, tonight, gentle, bright, touch, whisper, face, hands, lips, breath, wine, moon, sun, light, earth, leaves, petal, petals, bloom, blooming, waterfalls, shine, shining

Love me
Like you've never loved before
And like you'll never love again
Till I can't take it anymore cos I'm filled up
And until the only thing left in the plate set before me is more of it

Hold me
Like a mother holds her new born child
Looking into its eyes, fast forgetting the pain and whatnots she's been through
Till the delicate smell of your fragrance becomes my shield
And until my skin starts to melt into yours

Touch me
Till your prints are boldly engraved on me
Let your hands run wild and wide all through and true
Let it wander around my body,it's yours for the taken
Don't hold back, this is all I've ever wanted

Kiss me
Till the taste of your lips linger on even after you're done
Till I'm wasted and as drunk as a skunk
Or don't you know your mouth is an ocean of wine
I'll gladly swim in it until my strength is gone and I drown

Leave me
Only when I tell you to which I'm pretty sure is never
Never forget we're bound from now till forever
And even before the clock started to run its never ending race
Let it be the one thing you don't know how to do

I'm just so addicted to the feeling of feeling. Of wishing for something more because this can't be it. I want fireworks, smiles that stops the heart, the softest touch of your hand against my waist, explosions and gasps saying all that our mouths can't say when we're breathing in each other. I want a love that you can really feel, that you can touch. I want eyes talking, staring hungrily at me like they just can't have enough. Kisses adoring every inch of my body and you grabbing my hips because you just need me closer to you. I want that. Even if it's just in my head, I want it. So I stay dreaming all my awaken time, knocking me over to feel something more than this nothingness, turning me inside out to find a new angle where I might meet you. Through movies, books, even my own texts. Because I need to feel it to soften this longing. I need to feel like there's something more waiting for me than just these ordinary emotions, this neutral life.

I enjoy silent personal smiles,
Brought on by a text,
          A meme
                             Perhaps remembrance
Or the memory of a touch
An old song you just remembered
                                            By the beat of the bus' bouncing
                     Seeing other's
              Is just about as good
As having my own

Sometimes stars explode
and leave behind the most
beautiful nebulae in the universe-
but that is one in a billion.
Somehow you create a nebula
with every touch,
and every word.
So what does that make you?

I fantasize...
of walking
on this grey day
a girlfriend in tow
to the Cadillac cafe.
Maybe...
8 blocks
Up Broadway.
Peering through window
glass-
at passers by.
Orange juice to lick
my lips.
Listen-
melodic voices
The Humms of a Saturdy morning

his words burned through people
with barely a care in the world
corrosive, toxic, flammable,
the strongest acid she'd ever seen.

her words slid over people
like soap, a weak base
so she kept quiet
meek could have been
her middle name.

she thought they could neutralize.
she thought he was a weaker acid,
one that could complement her,
not one that burned at the touch.

but burn he did.

nevertheless, she prevailed.