#wishful-thinking
wear the badge, suitor, bristling poet,
chloroform content on a surge of the old heroism,
but you could do nothing to save her back in the then
your benevolent shock impotent in hindsight
and what ungovernable intent holds sway at this time?
can the intellectual blast paint a way for a homecoming
where accused dignity might finally sleep without
the within of a star shaped wound
to emerge from behind the deep cover of an aging photograph
whence your soul's shadow smiled like a lazy fern
and the energetic child out braved the shocked Adonis
there is an undeniable whereto as your fingers blow bubbles
washed by the whether or not to further
a gentleman shall always keep his secrets passed the obituary relish
forever a disciple to his pondered heart while
the narrow prophet can only bridle at an opened conscience
while keeping the adultery at arms-length,
a good four thousand miles hence, but leaving so little space
that science cannot detect a gap,
hope is stretched across a salty segregation
whose surface offers mirror to us each
and furnishes a briny indulgence
once the barriers of taste end at our fingertips
yet, still, every morning, my **** will stink of yesterday’s bad decisions
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
You're not very far but you feel light years away
It's as if I'll never see that smile adorn your face
It's killing me to dream in a bed all alone,
Dreaming only of you
But am I really alone?
Maybe if I think about you enough, you'll finally appear
It's the law of attraction, I'll manifest you from my tears
You're 70% water anyway, if science is right
And if it just might work,
I think I'll give it try
First, I'll imagine your lips, pulling taughnt in a smile
It's quite attractive if I remember, though it has been awhile
Then the sound of your voice;
O, how it makes my tender heart
Rejoice
Next, your soft hands, running over the curve and dip of my waist
These memories, such sweetness.. I hope they don't go to waste
The taste of your lips as they move feverishly with mine,
These memories are surely fading
With the passing of time
I never knew which spice it was, but you always smell of spices
I can almost smell it now.. These five senses must be my vices
And you've still yet to show your face
Maybe I forget something..
Again then, just in case
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC