.crush.

If I told you that I wanted you that I wake up and the first thought is what your lips would taste like at that very moment, would you take me seriously, could you?

 If I’m bold enough to prove to you that these words have action & emotion behind them, then would you lend me the care of your heart? 

I’ve drawn circles and squares setting us between them and created the shape of love 

I’m waiting and wondering what your passions sound like breathed into my ear before you climax within the wetness engulfing my fingers 

I want you …more than is imaginable 

So much to the point that I breathe in your voice and forget the sound of mine 

You are beauty In every sense of the noun I’m at a loss for verbs, adjectives and conjunctions to clutter up the space between my tongue & your skin 

The most desirable sin, 

you’ve become a need I’ll chase into the early hours of the morning 

I’d stay awake forever just to watch you open your eyes, look at me and say “you are my love.” 

Patiently, earnestly and with nothing but sincere devotion to your soul, I pledge my affection & whisper words of your praise into the night sky I’ve fallen and there’s no place I would rather be then here.

.she writes.

she writes poems for me
because the words can never seem to fall from her lips
yet the ink that stains her paper holds more weight,
more truth,
than I’ve ever heard her mutter out loud
my intense desire to hear those words, rather than run my fingers over flat black marks piques her interest
for she’s incapable of living and loving out loud
all her feelings are trapped between two surfaces
while she’s a prisoner in her thoughts
and I often wonder how we would be, together, if she was free

.expectations.

expectations
the root of all disappointments
and i've pulled you from the ground,
your leaves and stem
earthy and full of promise
the actual fruit of my labors
shriveled and sunken in
the palms of my calloused hands
betraying their age with lines of despair
the struggle
between love, life and
the belief in truth
when the sky is made of angry clouds
thunder like praise
and eyes are like mirrors so that all you see
is yourself
when you're being lied to
so you believe
in your truth
while chameleons color their hearts
with your strength
hide their weakness between shades of gray
it's raining again