Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"unknow" poems
i want to know how to unknow you
0
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
unknown stranger
*you cannot unwalk the bridge you have crossed you cannot unknow the fresh taste of enlightenment once you have breathed it in there is no way back to an illusory net of safety take courage spread your wings and fly ©2016janetaylor
0
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC
there is no way back
Oh my dear friend molly, How I love you so. Always there for me, Oh sweet molly A your voice is a drug. Makes me feel comfortable Like my sweet friend maryjane All you need is to spark her up Shes on fire Makes you feel worth living I always hang out with maryjane with friends Even alone My mom likes her My family doesn't My mom hates molly For a reason unknow Maybe because she almost killed me Molly killed my cousin I miss her but molly is nicer Makes you happy right? My cousin never did I met maryjane when i was 13 Best day of my life Happy The happiest i had been in months At a party is where i met her Maryjane is my bestfriend She introduced me to molly I blame her sometimes for that But then i hang with molly and i love her Molly is fake though Always nice when shes with you After she makes you feels bad Like you need her all the time As if you cant live without her Oh sweet maryjane never does this to me She knows ill always come back to her But molly has a price too Makes you happy but then harms you Please leave molly i cant continue to live with you Maryjane my savior is the one i look up to
0
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 1:47 PM UTC
molly
Standing by the shallow waters I stare Sun is shining but no shadow is visible The other side has something unknow But I feel too weak to sail my boat.. What I might find I am not aware The first push I give is crucial The Mast is broken,wind sail is torn As I felt a spear down my throat.. Cross these waters before the thunders But why am I afraid of them now? Let the wind sail the ship home Take me to the place unknown.. Random things at random times Is a symptom. We have to adapt Weak heart has an ego to be killed Mosaic minds have to be willed...
0
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
Shallow
love between poets: “who will be between the sheets next week when I’m gone,” she lets sigh-escape, as she watches the backyard paradise parading landscape of animals before the bay, perfect day sure to come, her new pets obeying the early morn sunrising awakening call to rise, everyone playing~parading, before her royal summons, no coincidence, finger-of-god, two by two this while I’m kissing her neck, my arm around her ******* and the he-intent on slip sliding down to the small of her back, obeying his innate, worship worshiping and giving up, all he’s got intense intently contentedly unfazed, unphased, non-nonplussed, he’s been interrogated before, heart is pure he answers: next weekend when you are back in situ, thousands of miles away, airplane housed for hours, writing poems of love from the lost and found, recalling this exact moment, how I worshipped your presence, and these words: You will be with me in every breath, our sheets will radioactively emit ions and molecules of our scent combined, and present as present  your perfume can be, elicited, elixir, you and me combinant she turns from the bay-view, the animals who now mutually worship her adoration, watching, focused on us as observers, she lifts me up and smiles, replying* “oh my lover you’re the cad of cads, king of the baddest poet-lads, the gist of what is wrong with the best of men, her, pressing me hard to her chestnut hair chest, she, falling down into my eyes take me back to bed, liar, let me add to my aroma, to ensue, to ensure you will miss the best love you had partly, insufficiently, and unhinged completely I’m your lassie, you my lad, my king of cads, my lover poet, thief of my poems and my secret speech spells, escalating senses of one’s imaginings”* and, along came the rest of what was freely given, for love between poets man and a woman, is a someone, somewhere, sometime summertime thing *I will still smell you in my heart, and send to you ballistic missives, words to explode your tear ducts when you rest in sheets that met me, when you’ll know me by my odors, cry out loud so that you’ll scare our animals, no matter how many tides wash away our residue, you will never unknow and be forever unprepared for my return,* even though we will be each, a thousand unwritten poems away...
0
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 11:07 AM UTC
love between poets: “who will be between the sheets next week
love between poets: “who will be between the sheets next week when I’m gone,” she lets sigh-escape, as she watches the backyard paradise parading landscape of animals before the bay, perfect day sure to come, her new pets obeying the early morn sunrising awakening call to rise, everyone playing~parading, before her royal summons, no coincidence, finger-of-god, two by two this while I’m kissing her neck, my arm around her ******* and the he-intent on slip sliding down to the small of her back, obeying his innate, worship worshiping and giving up, all he’s got intense intently contentedly unfazed, unphased, non-nonplussed, he’s been interrogated before, heart is pure he answers: next weekend when you are back in situ, thousands of miles away, airplane housed for hours, writing poems of love from the lost and found, recalling this exact moment, how I worshipped your presence, and these words: You will be with me in every breath, our sheets will radioactively emit ions and molecules of our scent combined, and present as present  your perfume can be, elicited, elixir, you and me combinant she turns from the bay-view, the animals who now mutually worship her adoration, watching, focused on us as observers, she lifts me up and smiles, replying* “oh my lover you’re the cad of cads, king of the baddest poet-lads, the gist of what is wrong with the best of men, her, pressing me hard to her chestnut hair chest, she, falling down into my eyes take me back to bed, liar, let me add to my aroma, to ensue, to ensure you will miss the best love you had partly, insufficiently, and unhinged completely I’m your lassie, you my lad, my king of cads, my lover poet, thief of my poems and my secret speech spells, escalating senses of one’s imaginings”* and, along came the rest of what was freely given, for love between poets man and a woman, is a someone, somewhere, sometime summertime thing *I will still smell you in my heart, and send to you ballistic missives, words to explode your tear ducts when you rest in sheets that met me, when you’ll know me by my odors, cry out loud so that you’ll scare our animals, no matter how many tides wash away our residue, you will never unknow and be forever unprepared for my return,* even though we will be each, a thousand unwritten poems away...
Continue reading...
69
I wish I could unknow you like I would undo a knot-- over, above under and through my mind untangled from the thoughts of you but I find that unknowing you is less like unraveling stubborn strings and a little more like trying to unclasp a relentless grip around my neck
0
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
Knots
The slipped knot of now into will be is such a gentle strand, the braid undoes itself from yesterday as easily as a garment's clasp, as easily as abseiling liana. Can I hold soft the line? To not look back but keep the mountain's imprint emboldened in the eye To unknow the difference from ascent and descent. O day, o cloud: what do you know that hasn't been pressed through my palms?
0
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 9:37 PM UTC
the strand ghazal
In a poet eye Text are always dancing To an invisible rhythm Even the static figures Keeps jumping up and down Seeing through many lens Lens changing with every step
0
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 5:11 PM UTC
Unknow
For her eighteenth birthday, a gift from the fates; she knows how she will die. Before, there was a vague notion— A shadow cast by a hungry dragon who roosts on the branches of the family tree, devouring her ancestors, waiting and unslayable. Now, the diviners speak to her in pedigrees and punnett squares, leafing through a deck of tarot cards, checking vials of her blood for patterns in the tea leaves at the bottom, hardening the shadows at their edges and twisting peripheral horror into prophecy, a promise, and she sees it all, she sees everything, laid in front of her and stretching out like a golden string towards the vanishing horizon: The sharp burn of dread at every twitch and missing memory, jellied elegies oozing from the center of others’ puffed pleasantries, years spent watching her soul get thinner and thinner, trapped within a broken heap of matter and flesh, cursed bone, misfiring electricity, eroding endlessly, self destructing, never ending, ending soon, and, at last, alone, gazing back on a youth spent gazing forward, ****** and dying and derelict, and decades in the making— she asks herself, what would she not give for the chance to unknow, to trade the dragon for the slow, soft lull of the indifferent stars, and to die whole and confused, like the rest of us.
0
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 1:24 AM UTC
Clairvoyance
It takes baby steps to fall out of love yet falling in love is fast like a rollercoaster ride going with the waves up and down. you can't unknow someone whose very essence is burned into the depths of your soul can't forget the one who fills your every waking thought. I want to unlearn every lesson forget the bad memories learn to let go of the pain discover who I am and who I can be without you.
0
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 9:46 AM UTC
Without you
Every morning I try to unlearn the universe. It is like a yoga exercise to escape the irons of knowledge. In 63 years your head fills with so much ******** There must be a method for purging the excess. So far I have not been able to discover it. I will keep trying because I want to see things fresh. I want to hear babies cry and Mozart exhalt for the first time. I want to enter a woman anew like a baffled 15-year-old discovering a pleasure from which he will never want to escape. I want to forget my over-remembered  life. I want to rediscover the salty taste of women. I have been everywhere and am out of destinations. I ache for the pain of a question lacking an answer. I want to go to war again and relearn a sense of terror. I want to experience the baffled euphoria of first love. I want to reclaim my sense of wonder from jaded life. Imagine the utter joy of hearing again birds for the first time. Unlearning is so much harder than learning. I fear not enough years remain to unknow this burden. But I must keep at it with a vigor no longer possessed. It is morning again in the heart of Mike Essig. And every morning I try to unlearn the universe simply so I might know the bliss of learning it again.
0
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 8:40 AM UTC
Unlearning the Universe
you sit there to the right of my eye dancing about like giddy fool but when i look directly at you you disaperate to a world unknow then i presume reading and back you are dancing again almost taunting i know that if try to take a glance youll be gone back to your other world still dance you are then couriousity gets the best i look you are gone again then thoughts pour in "am i going insane" then the peives like voice say "you all ready are" see speck youve made voices apear it annoys me so but as contineu to write but this time dance it seems as thought you feel my anoence then just as i was about write that you felt for me and stoped you are back and this time more jittery that ever now i am almost shaking with rage i thought you were nice but now you are not its almost as thought you remind me of someone i know but yet i dont your descriptsion is on the tip of my toung but then it is not just like your jitter dance aha now i have it you remind me of me
0
Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 2010 at 12:09 PM UTC
th speck
The Joy Of Unknowing Ah! To unknow the sun Exploding into molten gold As it dances upon your hair. Unknow your perfume That lingers forever in the air. Unknow the orchestra Playing relentlessly in my heart. Unknow your smile, your laugh And the funny things you do All the infectious parts of you. Ah! To unknow the touch we nearly had And the joy we imagined Would fill our innocent lies one day. Unknow the dream And change it back into a mere thought That was never afforded an existence Except in the rantings of a /fu:l/ Ah! Ah! To unknow the fear Of losing you Unknow the futility Of wanting to hold you near. But, how can you unknow Something you never really knew? Or feel decimated by the loss Of something that was never yours? Oh! The fact of not knowing you Became the only part of me I remember. I remember knowing it would never be, I think you also knew, didn’t you? Oh! Oh! I realise we cannot go back And unknow what we have seen And been and become. We cannot chip away At the sculpture, Which is our life. Cannot take out the bits We do not want to be anymore- It is too late. I am with you And you with me In this dream For eternity. (Gerry Aldridge ©2016)
0
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 4:47 PM UTC
The Joy Of Unknowing
And even though things have changed between us, The love we once felt doesn't fade. that love, that knowledge... that doesn't go away. I wish I could unknow every curve of your face, and every word you half speak then change your mind. It would be easier if it did go away, if I could hate you. Maybe if we had fought more, if there were hateful words you had said that I could recall in perfect clarity -- ugly words that I could throw at my reflection when I stood in front of the mirror. See, it's probably my fault you didn't love me enough. whenever I look at my reflection I wonder what was so wrong with me, that our relationship fell apart. That doesn't make it easier to forgive myself. It might be easier if my heart didn't skip a beat every time I hear your name. BUT, how many of us can say we did something ******* up for a love that didn't work out? That we uprooted ourselves and turned into someone else. I jumped and fell freely and ended up at rock bottom. But I'm digging my way out one sad movie at a time. Digging while my eyes sting with tears, as my hands bleed, as my clothes tear away. And I'm trying really hard to not be embarrassed about failing. It doesn't always work out, I knew that. That didn't stop my heart from beating to the thuds of hope. If only you were the one. If only I could have been what you wanted and compromised some more. Each time we break up I want to crawl into bed and never get out. I analyze each part of me, wondering what didn't fit into a part of you, why it couldn't fit. I know it couldn't fit into a part of anyone else. I think about my life, berating myself at the bad choices. I wonder if I was wrong -- maybe we weren't so bad? Maybe that was as good as it gets? Maybe I asked for too much? Maybe I'm too idealistic and too crazy and I need to be more realistic and grab a hold of a man that will do. But no, I want a man that wants to make me happy. A man that knows am everything he needs and isn't afraid. I want you to be ready for me. Don't run cause we always end up right here. I want you. Just you. It's always only been you.
0
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 8:34 AM UTC
ODE TO MY ONE LOVE
And even though things have changed between us, The love we once felt doesn't fade. that love, that knowledge... that doesn't go away. I wish I could unknow every curve of your face, and every word you half speak then change your mind. It would be easier if it did go away, if I could hate you. Maybe if we had fought more, if there were hateful words you had said that I could recall in perfect clarity -- ugly words that I could throw at my reflection when I stood in front of the mirror. See, it's probably my fault you didn't love me enough. whenever I look at my reflection I wonder what was so wrong with me, that our relationship fell apart. That doesn't make it easier to forgive myself. It might be easier if my heart didn't skip a beat every time I hear your name. BUT, how many of us can say we did something ******* up for a love that didn't work out? That we uprooted ourselves and turned into someone else. I jumped and fell freely and ended up at rock bottom. But I'm digging my way out one sad movie at a time. Digging while my eyes sting with tears, as my hands bleed, as my clothes tear away. And I'm trying really hard to not be embarrassed about failing. It doesn't always work out, I knew that. That didn't stop my heart from beating to the thuds of hope. If only you were the one. If only I could have been what you wanted and compromised some more. Each time we break up I want to crawl into bed and never get out. I analyze each part of me, wondering what didn't fit into a part of you, why it couldn't fit. I know it couldn't fit into a part of anyone else. I think about my life, berating myself at the bad choices. I wonder if I was wrong -- maybe we weren't so bad? Maybe that was as good as it gets? Maybe I asked for too much? Maybe I'm too idealistic and too crazy and I need to be more realistic and grab a hold of a man that will do. But no, I want a man that wants to make me happy. A man that knows am everything he needs and isn't afraid. I want you to be ready for me. Don't run cause we always end up right here. I want you. Just you. It's always only been you.
Continue reading...
45
Open yours eyes please, Open them to the new day, Open yours and see the sun rise, Let it wash away your nightmares my dear, Open your eyes and let me take your hands, Let me help you up, Open your hands to mine so I can help stand my dear, Let me take you to all the places you wanted to see, Open your eyes and see that I will do that for you, Let me give you all the things that you need, To surprise you with roses and tickets to Unknow destinations, Planes to exotic places, Breakfast in different cites, Memories scattered over the world, Open your eyes darling, Open your hands, Take my hands and take the first step, In this adventure, That we call life.
0
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
Open your eyes
It seems to be so peaceful So quiet But still so full of Life The ocean amaze me The blue water hypnotize me Just like the creatures in it So full of color So full of Life Makes me wanna be a part of it I want to just lay in the middle of the ocean Feel my body sink Deeper and deeper Never stop falling Falling falling falling Deeper into the big blue Cold and unknow Yet so Beautiful and calming Let me be a part of it
0
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 4:55 PM UTC
I want to be a part of it, Please?
What is dusk, but the promise of dawn? Where all of the wrongs shall be undone, Your love, the eternal flower of purity Your heart, an epicenter of sincerity - No failure made Where knowledge hadn’t come A sweet serenade Of your love behind, sung - The furious creature in me By you always calmed Your word, in my heart True as psalms. - Were I growthed different Who would I be? I druther not think it For shall it ne’er matter to me - Your tolerance For my mistakes unknow And your pride no matter For How I have grown - When I seek silence, When I think mineself a cur, Feeling you with me My creature doth pur - My questions ever answered Your back never turned When young and asleep in your loving arms, Could not a soul me stirred. - So ever after and always Will I remain here for thee, My death only bothersome, If I let you alone be.
0
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:08 AM UTC
For My Mother.
Sono te o watashi e to Azukete; me o tojite Mabuta ni kuchizukete Itami o iyashimashou Nemurinasai, yukkuri to Ushinau kowasa wa dare mo onaji Kanashimi, mayoi mo tsutsumikomu Chikarazuyosa kanjitai Arasou munashisa subete no hito Kizukeba kagayaku hi wa noboru Sono toki made inoru kara Show message history Give your hand to me And close your eyes Let me cure your pain With a kiss on your eyelids Sleep now, be at ease Everyone's the same: their lost fears Wrapping up sadness and confusion, too I want to feel that strength If everyone realized The pointlessness of dispute, a glittering sun would rise Until that time comes, I pray
0
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 10:54 AM UTC
title is unknow- translated underneth
And you can never see You can never be Everything that they are Anything that is not A word Or a phrase They can never be And you can never become What you cannot see You have blinded your eyes You have cut your ears And you have sewed your mouth And I cannot unsee I cannot unknow I cannot help But be Everything I flee Everything I hate Would I ever be something more?
0
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
AX02P1
Cats cry as classical music plays and furniture floats in some box far off We hold our heads low, only hands move to roll down windows while leaving a place we never called home. California, did you feel me reach for you between heaving breaths as father passes Main Street toward the highway? and mama smiles, cringes, throws her chest forward Merge for incoming traffic but there isn’t anyone else on the highway headphones like blindness or alternate realities where mama and I are not just an expense. Pennsylvania and Super 8 Motel Where we rush in carrying the cats in towels to make them look like laundry not having enough to pay the pet deposit red brown bed covers- bad blood between mother and father as they cannot agree on a tv station miles to go and everyone sighs and sips at their excitement Stop at an exit toward a hotel without a pool in Nebraska where people take their drink dry or ***** or depressed mama and papa get one on the rocks with stares and snots from men wearing cowboy hats and desperately fat belt buckles papa imitates a gay man mama is confused dust for $85 a night two travelers, one to return headed for gold but not for good States run by with motive unknow Dog rests her head on my lap as we cross the line and I ask to stand by the sign both agree it is too dangerous I weep and wish to open the doors we do, and the air is different, like taking off a mask I wanted to embrace the ground we now walked on, with feverish kisses meant for the trees Papa leaves and drives all the way back with promises on his shoulders while mama and I unpack boxes silverware, bedsheets, posters with the expectation of a return that never happens We collapse the boxes labeled fragile open the shades, and stop waiting for a man who isn’t traveling, a place, a destination.
0
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 12:14 AM UTC
destination
Cats cry as classical music plays and furniture floats in some box far off We hold our heads low, only hands move to roll down windows while leaving a place we never called home. California, did you feel me reach for you between heaving breaths as father passes Main Street toward the highway? and mama smiles, cringes, throws her chest forward Merge for incoming traffic but there isn’t anyone else on the highway headphones like blindness or alternate realities where mama and I are not just an expense. Pennsylvania and Super 8 Motel Where we rush in carrying the cats in towels to make them look like laundry not having enough to pay the pet deposit red brown bed covers- bad blood between mother and father as they cannot agree on a tv station miles to go and everyone sighs and sips at their excitement Stop at an exit toward a hotel without a pool in Nebraska where people take their drink dry or ***** or depressed mama and papa get one on the rocks with stares and snots from men wearing cowboy hats and desperately fat belt buckles papa imitates a gay man mama is confused dust for $85 a night two travelers, one to return headed for gold but not for good States run by with motive unknow Dog rests her head on my lap as we cross the line and I ask to stand by the sign both agree it is too dangerous I weep and wish to open the doors we do, and the air is different, like taking off a mask I wanted to embrace the ground we now walked on, with feverish kisses meant for the trees Papa leaves and drives all the way back with promises on his shoulders while mama and I unpack boxes silverware, bedsheets, posters with the expectation of a return that never happens We collapse the boxes labeled fragile open the shades, and stop waiting for a man who isn’t traveling, a place, a destination.
Continue reading...
56
Sugar sugar spice Oh baby Its my look that drives you crazy Not my eyes Open legs, closed mind, tradition follows Let me pray Today. Am I forgiven today? Tomorrow I may sin again Or maybe i'll just sing Love, walks alone feeling misunderstood Obsession, *** naive High socks, short skirt, shy smiles Always a rebel, never held a cause You keep running Spicing up your day Blaming others on your mistakes Never at ease because Always looking fot a place to hide Oh baby You are not even sweet You have no spice Not even darkness in your soul You are just a ghost of the unknow Trying to be someone believing it means something When you only look like a fool Transforming yourself into a joke
0
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
Baby, baby, bye
Dear You, I regret coming to see you on that fateful day. You see, If I hadn't come to your place, We wouldn't be stuck in a rut. Dear You, I wrote you a letter but its illegible, You see,my tears spilled and mixed with the ink, My shaking hand crumpled and tore the paper, My thoughts folded in on themselves like a deflated ball. Dear You, Falling for you was the most painful thing I ever did. I fell flat on my face and hurt my chest. My heart pounded over and over, I got the shakes like a reforming addict, But still you wouldn't leave my system. Dear You, It's pretty hard to unknow someone that imprinted on you. You are woven into my nerves, memories and thoughts. You took me captive and I can't break free. You destroyed me. Dear You, Teach me to forget you. Unfurl your web from my every thought process. See,I was okay without you once. And I can learn to be without you.
0
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
To You
Yesterday I got a tattoo. The artist had coppery hair That slid into her eyes. They were green And I noticed that they changed color From dark to light Sometimes almost turquoise, Sometimes mossy and deep. She scared me right away because I wanted her hands on me. We talked about art. Then we talked about girls. Then we talked about life And how when she was young They teased her for her Southern drawl. I realized that was the music drawing me in to the sound of her voice- The faintest remnant of an accent, Just enough to touch my skin. It was just a little rough, like velvet rubbed in the wrong direction. She worked on my shoulder And I would turn my head to watch her. Even though I couldn't see the ink- I could see her face, Shadowed by the light above her, Lips parted Eyes focused and passionate. It is very dangerous to watch an artist work To look at her face. You don't know how easy it is to love someone who holds beauty in their fingers, who molds and shapes it and brings it into the world. You don't know until it's a possibility dancing in the air before you, And suddenly you think you must've looked too long... I tested this feeling, tried to find its limits and its dimension, Tried to figure if it was solid or smoky. I couldn't tell, but I noticed her hands on me, gentle but firm, And as she was lost in her art I realized that I WAS her art, And what a way to feel alive, to be a canvas for someone's passion for life! And I nearly shivered, And I suddenly realized that I was leaning into her needle, Subtly but undeniably And I could not unknow the fact that the pain made me breathless not because it hurt But because she was inflicting it Molding me, changing me, making me art and reaching into me somehow. Afterwards we talked for so long that I walked with her to her car. She hugged me goodbye and it took me by surprise. I wonder if she knew any of it. I wonder if she enjoyed my skin the way it enjoyed her fingers. I suppose One way or another, I will find out.
0
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Tarot
Yesterday I got a tattoo. The artist had coppery hair That slid into her eyes. They were green And I noticed that they changed color From dark to light Sometimes almost turquoise, Sometimes mossy and deep. She scared me right away because I wanted her hands on me. We talked about art. Then we talked about girls. Then we talked about life And how when she was young They teased her for her Southern drawl. I realized that was the music drawing me in to the sound of her voice- The faintest remnant of an accent, Just enough to touch my skin. It was just a little rough, like velvet rubbed in the wrong direction. She worked on my shoulder And I would turn my head to watch her. Even though I couldn't see the ink- I could see her face, Shadowed by the light above her, Lips parted Eyes focused and passionate. It is very dangerous to watch an artist work To look at her face. You don't know how easy it is to love someone who holds beauty in their fingers, who molds and shapes it and brings it into the world. You don't know until it's a possibility dancing in the air before you, And suddenly you think you must've looked too long... I tested this feeling, tried to find its limits and its dimension, Tried to figure if it was solid or smoky. I couldn't tell, but I noticed her hands on me, gentle but firm, And as she was lost in her art I realized that I WAS her art, And what a way to feel alive, to be a canvas for someone's passion for life! And I nearly shivered, And I suddenly realized that I was leaning into her needle, Subtly but undeniably And I could not unknow the fact that the pain made me breathless not because it hurt But because she was inflicting it Molding me, changing me, making me art and reaching into me somehow. Afterwards we talked for so long that I walked with her to her car. She hugged me goodbye and it took me by surprise. I wonder if she knew any of it. I wonder if she enjoyed my skin the way it enjoyed her fingers. I suppose One way or another, I will find out.
Continue reading...
50
I saw you too late and maybe it's better this way because once you know, you can't unknow that my mind screams to you and my body screams for you and I hope that the dreams about your lips will never end as well as your laughter that still resonates in my eardrums.
0
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
to know or not