#leopards
When we met,
you made my heart wet.
Like morning dew of hope,
from Heaven, chemistry crept,
with hope and regret
of everything you may
and may not get.
Your faculties tasted me
in anticipation...
How my eyes' light
might look in your bed,
how my words ringing
swam in your head.
You perked me up like sweet grass,
onto my taste buds you bled.
Our souls danced
and sang in embrace.
When we parted they said,
Well if that's that,
mission accomplished.
Whether covert or conscious,
whether or not
she even calls him,
we have loved once again.
Less a natural reaction,
more an inexplicable combustion.
From that day on it was destined,
from admiration swapped and accepted,
We could never return
to who we'd been.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 10:03 PM UTC
I lay atop the grass with Cecily,
taking in the sun anew.
He calls down,
Come see what I've done now,
come see this new tattoo!
Eh.
I'm rather proud!
Not now cuz, I'm busy.
Oh come now, it's profound!
A portrait of Edgar Allen Poe!
Speaking of poets,
I'm quite in the middle
of an epic something...
DO YOU MIND?!
It's realllllly good though!
Oh, fine.
I plod my *** up the stairs
in the heat and reach the balcony.
I'm blown out of the water.
He's right, it's a masterpiece!
Edgar's soul ringing out
through skin to me!
Oh, wow.
You know,
he owns my favorite poem.
Which is that?
A dream within a dream.
Ah yes,
the canvas muses,
reciting a verse,
just like music.
Well isn't this canvas kindred!
The length of his cigarette
the duration of time we quip.
Back and forth, our own prose.
He says not to kiss your ***
but you are quite moving my soul.
You are inspiring me,
the way you tie emotions to paper,
in utter splendor.
Smoke break over,
to return to mechanical buzzing.
His eyes sincere,
I'd like to share,
hear more your words.
And I yours! I descend stairs,
with Godson in towe.
Are you of this town?
Yes, for now.
As am I, you should take my digits.
OK!
I'm still descending.
Oh, right..
pulling out my phone.
I'm a stickler for full names,
what are you called?
Oh, I'm Italian too!
Well, I'm Sicilian, it's quite a difference.
Oh is it now?
******* elitist.
Handsome though.
We'll see where this goes...
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 12:59 AM UTC
Spark up my cancer stick
as the mist rolls in.
Enchanted, I sit on these steps
and catch water rivulets
while holding my breath,
the smoke entwining
with secrets I've shed,
all the while cherishing
the thought of shared bed.
My wicked streak
no longer welcome here
there's no room
in our nest
for this shame
in my chest
I find myself nourishing
what hasn't happened yet,
flourishing
the tender side of my soul
in the dead of night
I sit here alone not cold,
for beknownst to me,
my inner vision in sight,
orange cones
surround the scene,
that cannot obscure
moonlight,
oxygen growing in trees
and all the famed whispers
cavorting with me.
All congenial
with our convictions,
this depiction
of snow Winter sent
has me lifted.
Every fence i lean over
has only meant that
I see you.
Spring sprouts as a human,
your hope makes me feel new.
I've hit the ground running
to pick up your pace,
but not for a second
do I feel in a race.
We have hit
a harmonious stride,
and Dear, I do find
that your words
are the grace
in this ephemeral place.
I'm right beside you smiling
because home is your face.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC