Like half written symphonies I wait for you.

I wait for you
like an empty house
so you come and build yourself
in me.

I wait for you
like the flowers wait for spring
to bring them
back to life.

I wait for you
like the rush of blood
my head needs
to feel alive.

I wait for you
like the warm earth
needs the kiss
of soft rain.

I wait for you
like the souls
that walk this earth
waiting for release.

I wait for you
like the heart
that needs a score
to play.

Like purity for
true love,
I wait for you.

I wait for you.

Sometimes I think
there are not enough words
to describe the color of your eyes
or the curve of your neck,
the way you make my bones ache
or the speed of my heart when I hear your voice.
I think about the lack
the inability
to outline you in pencil and ink
with all the words I know now.
You are something new.
You require a new combination of
letters and sounds.
There is not a single phrase in all of the world
to explain the way you make me feel,
so for you
I will create a new language.

There are some people who drape themselves across others
like rugs,
who beg for physical affection
like a dog waiting to have its belly scratched,
who hook pinkies and elbows and knees
with their best friend from childhood while huddled under blankets
in the middle of the night.
                  I am not one of these people.
I sit on the arms of couches,
feet turned away from the pile of mismatched body parts
that occupies the cushions.
                  I am not used to being touched gently.
But something about you
makes me crave contact.
     Hand to hand
             Hip to hip
                     It doesn’t matter.
All my life I have been balancing on the edge of
fear and desire
in a world without all of my senses,
and I think
      one touch from you
              a brush, a spark
                       would send me falling.
No, not falling.
Flying.

Before it's too late,


                                                         ­  because nothing's worse than
                                                            ­                                                  too
                                                                ­                                                     late.

She's dark, yet
moonlight glows
inside her soft-eyes
& despite her
tragic-aura,
I still want
her blackness,
to taste her magic,
to kiss
the devil inside her.

I would like to kiss somebody
it doesn't matter who
I would like to kiss somebody
anybody in particular would do
I'd like the feeling of lips on lips
a body pressed together or two
maybe I'd finally feel what it is to really kiss
since no one's ever shown me, I never really knew.
I'd like to be desperate for somebody
feel their chest pressed against mine
I'd like to want somebody
to fill my soul with unadulterated vice
I would like to kiss somebody
I would like to get my tongue entwined
I would like to lose all inhibitions
on the devil's table, dine.
I would like to kiss somebody,
it doesn't matter who.
I would like to kiss somebody,
in particular, you.