You.
What?
You love me?
Prove it.
Make it so I can't get out go to bed, unless you are there rubbing my temples for me, caressing the stress of the day until it melts under your strong hands.
Make it so the first thought in my morning-weary head is about you.
And while I'm tossing and turning, twisting up my sheets at night- it's because I'm dreaming of you.
Prove it.
Make it so during my day, all the little things make me want you.
That man's shirt- the exact shade of your cappuccino eyes.
that mahogany table reminds me of your hair.
Make me walk around like a love-lorn zombie.
Under your spell.
You are all I can concentrate on.
Your goofy smile, so full of glinting white teeth.
Your strong shoulders, the way the soft hair on your tanned arm tickles my neck when you rest your arm on my shoulder.
I love you,
but can you make me tingle with
that burning passion
I've only heard about?
Rain your words of love on me.
Touch me with your worker's hands,
delicate like birds,
but strong and calloused.
Make me do it.
Make me pine.
Make me dote on you.
I want to burn.
What was that?
Too much effort?
Yeah, that's what I figured.
And so I will rest here,
devoid and derelict.
Please fill me.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Shaky
Shaky-
My hand reaches out
To touch you
And I am so surprised
That your flesh leaps out for the attention.
My hand reaches out
To touch you
And I am so surprised
That your flesh leaps out for the attention.
Tainted
I am tainted when I am with you.
You are:
running water so pure,
It hurts the teeth
before it slides down the throat.
Warm in my stomach.
Cleansing me.
Washing out the impurities.
I want to bottle you,
right at the source.
My own personal spring,
so pleasantly fresh,
tricking down,
sanitizing,
my black spine.
You are:
running water so pure,
It hurts the teeth
before it slides down the throat.
Warm in my stomach.
Cleansing me.
Washing out the impurities.
I want to bottle you,
right at the source.
My own personal spring,
so pleasantly fresh,
tricking down,
sanitizing,
my black spine.
Friday, February 6, 2009
My People We Burn So Slowly
My people we burn so slowly
In the morning
I huddle myself in blankets
hot mug of tea
fresh from the shower
trying to rid oneself
of the slight headache
already pressing the temples
Instead,
listen to the tinkling song of the birds
admire the dragon peppers
sunbathing in their cozy pots
reflect upon the things that I love the most
as the sun caresses my world weary head:
a man with a 3 day beard,
and the way the beard will lick its way down his neck
how beautiful the delicately stringed vocabulary of a 3 year is
like painted macaroni on brightly colored yarn
art in simplicity
the glare of light through stained glass
blood red wine in a glass
lying in bed with a warm somebody
no thoughts except-
How nice it is to feel somebody else's warmth on your cold toes
and how lucky you are to not be
Alone.
Thinking these things all
absorbing the loving touch of the sun
wrapped up in cozy blankets
fighting off a headache
with a steaming mug of tea
fresh from the shower.
My people we burn so slowly.
In the morning
I huddle myself in blankets
hot mug of tea
fresh from the shower
trying to rid oneself
of the slight headache
already pressing the temples
Instead,
listen to the tinkling song of the birds
admire the dragon peppers
sunbathing in their cozy pots
reflect upon the things that I love the most
as the sun caresses my world weary head:
a man with a 3 day beard,
and the way the beard will lick its way down his neck
how beautiful the delicately stringed vocabulary of a 3 year is
like painted macaroni on brightly colored yarn
art in simplicity
the glare of light through stained glass
blood red wine in a glass
lying in bed with a warm somebody
no thoughts except-
How nice it is to feel somebody else's warmth on your cold toes
and how lucky you are to not be
Alone.
Thinking these things all
absorbing the loving touch of the sun
wrapped up in cozy blankets
fighting off a headache
with a steaming mug of tea
fresh from the shower.
My people we burn so slowly.
In Another Life
In another life
we may have held hands
and fought in a bar
because your brand of sarcasm
is bitter on my tongue
or maybe you just bought me a drink
to wash it down
and everything was pleasant again
but I remembered the aftertaste
and I must confess
it excited me
maybe we danced
maybe it rained as i left
and you offered me your jacket
and we ended up at my place
it really doesn't matter how it happened
the thing is
I've always kind of wondered
in another life
we would've
wouldn't we?
we may have held hands
and fought in a bar
because your brand of sarcasm
is bitter on my tongue
or maybe you just bought me a drink
to wash it down
and everything was pleasant again
but I remembered the aftertaste
and I must confess
it excited me
maybe we danced
maybe it rained as i left
and you offered me your jacket
and we ended up at my place
it really doesn't matter how it happened
the thing is
I've always kind of wondered
in another life
we would've
wouldn't we?
Tango Nuevo
My dear I must say,
you look so becoming in your
fluttery red-
flamenco tart-
tight-
satin
dress-
though you seem a bit awkward in the shoes.
Try to keep my lead.
You will dance
head held high
neck rigid-
that's right darling,
you be strong
and dance for me.
I've been working hard
all day
My legs are stiff,
I may be a bit sweaty,
but baby,
I can take you by the waist
and show you what I've got.
We take the floor.
tell the story in 4/4 time.
Stomp stomp say my feet.
Jingle jangle say my spurs.
Click click, say your heeled toes.
Swish swish say your skirts.
I work you hard-
thigh to thigh.
Sweeping, elegant steps,
complicated footwork.
I push you
I pull you.
You follow my lead.
Dance puppet dance.
I admire your strength,
but I have to admit,
I can't wait to rip that dress off of your
nubile limbs,
and degrade you.
Why?
For the same reason I break a beautiful horse.
I dominate.
I wear the spurs
because I like knowing they are there.
Dip you down low,
admire the fine arch of your back,
gaze down your decolletage.
Be strong.
Dance for me.
you look so becoming in your
fluttery red-
flamenco tart-
tight-
satin
dress-
though you seem a bit awkward in the shoes.
Try to keep my lead.
You will dance
head held high
neck rigid-
that's right darling,
you be strong
and dance for me.
I've been working hard
all day
My legs are stiff,
I may be a bit sweaty,
but baby,
I can take you by the waist
and show you what I've got.
We take the floor.
tell the story in 4/4 time.
Stomp stomp say my feet.
Jingle jangle say my spurs.
Click click, say your heeled toes.
Swish swish say your skirts.
I work you hard-
thigh to thigh.
Sweeping, elegant steps,
complicated footwork.
I push you
I pull you.
You follow my lead.
Dance puppet dance.
I admire your strength,
but I have to admit,
I can't wait to rip that dress off of your
nubile limbs,
and degrade you.
Why?
For the same reason I break a beautiful horse.
I dominate.
I wear the spurs
because I like knowing they are there.
Dip you down low,
admire the fine arch of your back,
gaze down your decolletage.
Be strong.
Dance for me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)