Belonging to my exposed skin,
You mold warm around collarbone.
Effortlessly.
Rising to the thought of you,
I am available.
And you're easy.
But the days are short.
Barely time for you to dance,
And I remember when
We were spinning around our shadows.
The evening has hurried herself here
With no consideration for our exchanges and
I am itching for the caress of your heat.
Whimpering to ghosts
Who taunt me in the dark spaces you've left behind.
Crashing quietly,
Like stars in the fragile night.
Waiting,
Alone
For the dawn.
Who,
Is staying away,
And straying sooner.
Sunlight,
Absent at my bedside.
A tease.
Rarely returning my affections.
But I am learning to exsist,
Without my skin prowled by your fingertips.
Bronzed with each touch.
She screams softly
The song of a distant lover.
I am mourning.
We have became night time and buisness.
Nothing
Simple
Seems to last.
Nothing too hot
Can be grasped.
But I love with my palms.
Wearing burns as a sign of my audacity.
And a warning of my bad habits.
Be warned.
There are hairs that only exsist when you whisper to the back of my neck.
I want to find home in their universe.
Hum the songs that they sway to,
Because I can't recognize this silence most live in.
Their quiet love that resists moans.
And manifests,
Overcast,
Causing disasters in their bedrooms.
I want to remember what it felt like,
Consumed in this embrace.
Glowing.
-HF
No comments:
Post a Comment