at night
I dip my feet into a dream,
run my fingers through
its cool, liquid song
I feel nothing,
see everything
as it seeps into my skin,
flows through my veins,
cuts into my bones,
opens up my heart,
healing my wounds
heat soaks through my skin
I drink each drop of sunlight
dripping through the trees
a forest of hearts beat fire
around me
mine keeps still
withholding a breath
waiting for night to come
pouring across the sky
again
my feet touch the ground
grinding their purpose into
concrete
each step forward
takes me back
to the nights of long ago
I think
without music to distract me
I sit
without a book to read
I feel
the heat of distant suns colliding
I wait
for hands to reach out and find me

No taste
no flavor burns against my tongue
No fear
my mind drinks passion from the sun
No sound
I feel the silence slowly slip away
No breath
empty whispers echo though my lungs
I turn the page
the story ends
the close of the book
echoes in my little room,
I sit back
feel things going
in and out of my mind
as breath goes
in and out of my lungs
and I go
in and out of dreams
woven by words
imprinted in my skin
I've forgotten them now,
yet I know they'll never leave
I turn my head
one story ends
another begins
come and share
a silence with me
feel the breeze
caress your face
this sacred ground
lives beneath our feet
come share a secret
with the empty space
I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in a while guys, I've been so busy lately. Hope you like this one :)
She stands up,
shedding her blanket,
walks outside
without a word or a jacket;
from the window
he can see her
as she crosses to the center
of the galaxy.

The skin on her arms
begins to glow,
sun-soaked and wet
with the intensifying rain.
Her hair spread out
over her shoulders
in wavy tendrils,
her clothes
clinging to her body
like an extra layer of flesh,
out of place
and longing to be
discarded
to allow the true skin
to breathe free.

For a while
she stands still,
letting the rain
wash over her,
coating her in the
shining saliva
of the dark clouds
above;
then she slowly
raises her arms
in an expression
of pure,
unadulterated praise
unmistakable
even from his vantage point.

She spins around,
inklings of water
flinging from her
elegantly outstretched
fingertips,
in a dizzying dance
of childlike worship
and effervescent bliss.

He loses count
of how many times
she's spun,
surrendering his focus
to the breathtaking beauty
of a woman
united with her element;
she is the absolute center
of the universe,
shining out
with a blinding light
only he can see,
a radiant vitality
his eyes drink up
until his untamable desire,
a fine frenzy
of equal parts
madness and clarity,
shakes him to his core.

He remains
completely still,
at once bewitched
and released
by the shimmering revelation
of her beauty in the rain.

After what seems like
an eternity
spun into her dance
of passionate salvation
like a web of
never-ending moments,
every movement a second,
every turn a day
in a forever spiral of time,
she halts her exaltations,
looks at him;
even from this distance,
her eyes pierce his heart,
stir his soul,
cut his bones,
transfix his mind.

She breathes deeply,
her small body filling up
with air diluted
by rain and sunlight.
He can feel her desire
in that moment;
speaking to him
through their bond,
wordlessly,
yet louder
than if she'd used her voice.

"Come outside,"
she pleads,
not with desperation
but with hope.
"Come to me."
this is an excerpt from a story I'm currently writing (see "Exile" by star_gir1 on Archive of our Own) which I have converted into a poem. Please enjoy!
He was the kind of boy
who'd stumble,
head-first,
anxious and passionate
as a freshly-lit match,
into my bedroom
in the living black of midnight,
maybe even through the window
so the late-spring night breeze
falls gently over our skin
like a blanket of crystalline tears
strung together by stars and clouds
as we make love
for the first time;
I may not be the first girl
he's ever been with,
just as he might not be the only boy
I've ever touched so intimately,
but we come together,
so fresh and warm,
like melting chocolate
spilling over the edges of our souls,
leaking through our fingertips,
our toe tips,
painting the floorboards and bedsheets
dark and light with the viscous essence
of our effervescent dreams
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