What would it feel like to have your neck in my lips
Your skin so close to my heartbeat.
Would your eyes look up at mine
From the top of your conscious gaze?
Would it be your fingertips or mine
Tracing entangled veins, tender areas
Upon a dreamscape of freckles and moles
A back opening up like hidden pages of a precious diary.
Would we’d twist and roll
Like two logs in a well kept fire
Burning as slow as we could
So each new ember could linger upon our tongues?
Would sensations erupt here?
Down our traced spines
While our roots began to slowly grow tighter
In a full surrender to our nature.
Month: December 2017
Early Confessions (day 2377)
I’ve been believing in you too much
Saturday night snakes around
Calling out each stop light blinking
Do you know me? – deep understanding.
Rummaging in my missing backpack
For an unused silver dollar
Where did my pens run to?
I’m not the same you used to be.
Hope here for a river running
Where my deepness cannot outstanding
Floating on my finally lasting
I’m now two pages confessing.