cinnamon sugar
your hands mash the crumble cake
warmth fills the kitchen

Lightning striking through a nervous system,
Blood pumping facetious fire.
Whispers through my home, hauntings of trauma and dreams of the crucifix stand.
The flaming star of the avatar.
The predator and the prey, predetermined and praying.
Just another eternity until the monsoon departs, the season ended. From there the calm waves will carry me to shore.
The dark, restful, kiln, I am your dough, as I am your clay, a grateful panettone.
Mold me, endow me the drug, the decree, the great recipe of relinquishment.
I rejected asylum, I denounced Gehenna,
Cold blooded sunbathing in the radiant rays of the great bird's wings.
The boiling embrace of his soft feathered fire.
The brutal, unrelenting, chaotic, climactic, pull into the hot murky depths.
Scald me, lash me, revive me in death.
For I can wait no longer.
Living in fear of the Reaper is worse than The Harvest itself.
So come unto me my lord, my peace,
And engulf me in the ******* rest.

I’m tired, the kind of tired that makes you want to curl up and
forget the day.
My blankets, soft, warm, green,
will heat me up and soothe away my fears.
I’m tired of watching you beyond the glass,
it’s frosted with distance, indecision, and
loneliness.
I see your figure though the pane and want to call out,
bring you in, give you cocoa, and fall into a pile of ease, and
natural love.
Fall back in love with me.
Leave the cold and come back into my arms, I’ll keep you
from the world,
and we’ll hide away,
warmed by wood and fire.
You'll stay by my side,
my love, my life, my happiness,
solidified.

I want to tattoo his love into the universe
So it becomes permanent and never strays

I wish I could wrap his words around me like a blanket
So on the coldest nights I can feel his warmth surround me

He like a safe place; a security blanket
He makes life feel surreal

i know that i set myself ablaze for you
but i liked the warmth it brought

i liked the way it felt to love someone
with a burning passion that cannot be put out

but when you're burning alone
your soul starts to wither
and you no longer feel the warmth
only the pain

Warm golden curls
Swirling beneath the surface
A porcelain crater
Filled to almost overflowing
Delicate toes
Tickled by the current
Bronzed summer legs
Tipped up in relaxation