The moon, she says you love me, She whispered so last night. She placed warm shivers down my back And bathed me in her light. She says you may not tell me, For fear that I may run, I said, "I think I love him, too," She said, "Two hearts make one."
Magnetic, insistent, your charms have me bound- and sweetly they torture my night; Tie my hands good and imprison my heart, I promise your kiss I won't fight.
Open my eyes Thinking of you Making my coffee Thinking of you Washing the dishes Thinking of you Make breakfast I won't eat Thinking of you Doing the laundry Thinking of you Every mundane task... Thinking of you Writing a poem Thinking of you Then... Lay down to sleep Thinking of you Closing my eyes... Continue Reading →
In twisted sheets, my twisted mind is absent, plays no part. My body present, as I sigh...yet separate is my heart.
Oceans of faces all screaming my name A piece of me here and there, all laying claim, Lustful and wanting and needing to taste, Sans any meaning, their sex laid to waste, Push me and pull me and press on my chest, Not breathing or thinking is this just a test Names that mean nothing... Continue Reading →
Difficult to say these words, Perhaps they don't exist. Perhaps I have to pluck them out Of some ethereal mist. Perhaps the things I need to say Are meant for lips, not ears. And when I try to whisper them I kiss you with my fears. Difficult to say these words, Perhaps... Continue Reading →
I click this lock And latch the door. I draw the curtains, Want no more. Secure the windows, bolt my chains, Umbrella for the monsoon rains, Fasten clasps And turn the key Shield myself from you and me. Swallow sand to stop my breath, Blind my eyes with tiny death. Interlock my fingers thus, And... Continue Reading →
My thoughts, they sit within a flame, And burn my lips They speak your name I chide myself and cast hot blame But never will I play cruel games. Within this flame, my words burn bright, And sort them I cannot this night, For ashes they become in flight, When sweet, upon me,... Continue Reading →
What becomes of metaphors? That lick my neck like verbose whores. Who shut my aching, throbbing doors, And cause an age of raging wars That seep like wetness from my pores And have no purpose, serve no cause, That trick me with their "yes, please...more"s And cut me into twos and fours, That keep the... Continue Reading →