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Mar 2013 · 668
Like The Stars.
Tayvin Mar 2013
it’s getting closer to summer
and as the ice melts,
the days grow longer
but the night, the night still holds the same loneliness in it’s dark palms, i rest

body thick with sweat,

walls dripping with condensation,
no matter the heat outside
my mind is still warmer,
as vibrations bounce off the inner tissues of my cerebral cortex
friction forms,
something like a silent explosion of thoughts

my skin drips,

so I take those covers off
loose covers I replaced when he left
but they were never thick enough to keep our heat that we made last night inside..
our love would diffuse quickly after so i made my own heat
in my mind, i remembered the way he would trace his fingers in words i wasn’t allowed to say
“stay still” he said
“stay silent” he said
so I did
and he would trace
T. R. U. S. T.
on my inner left thigh
F. O. R. E. V. E. R.
on the adjacent,
moving up, kissing as he would go
B. E. A. U. T. I. F. U. L.
in the middle of my hips
L. O. V. E.
across my chest, tracing the V- line in between my *******,

I let him in

and that night we made heat,
hotter than the sun,
passion God has never felt,
in that dark summer night, we were eachother’s palms that read the same lines, hand in hand,
from the book of psalms I sang the hymn of a grateful heart
we were immaculate conceptions because there had not been any purer love, I had thought
in that dark night, we waided in deep waters that were filled and parted by us,
he was my Noah, in that dark night we were the beautiful ones
I gave him my trust, he gave me lust
I said forever, he rushed
I wanted us to be the beautiful ones,
I wanted us to be love, but I guess that was too much
words, I’d only imagined

the heat rises,

rolling in a bed with last night’s musk,
the walls of my naked body dripping wet with lust
we had a passion God never knew
a love that was always warmer than all the stars in the dark night and the sun that would always come in the morning to remind me of
a love never true

like the night stars, he gave me heat, that always seemed to disappear in the morning

— The End —