fervor.
In the tipsy dew of morning, I find your skin beneath my sheets. I move your name nimbly across my tired lips. I feel your hands tangle in my hair. And I fall, through sentences, into you. I let you have me, even the saddest parts. I weep for my unknowing wanting of you, of this, of the dissolving space between our hearts.
clenching.
i make out
your shadow
in the distance
i feel you
in my stomach
trench
it hollows
with the sound
of your
name
a ghost
of purple
flowers
softened
and milked
of appetite
pounded into
the steel of cement
i can smell
you
the rancid
rotting of
a life
the fear crawling
your veins
with
old news
old faces
old strange
pretending
To Smile
how heavy
are your feet?
how free?
warp speed.
Split fucking open
That's the only way
Roasting in the sweat filled nights
Ghosts through the creaky
Halls
In my head
Clicking and stomping
Their feet
Folding me into myself
Pushing him away
The darkness is coming
I'm pulling it in
Until the covers are my home
The light, execution of comfort
I pull at the carpet
I scream without noise
I try to say
What I mean
But I never can
I never can.
convictions.
i've just been biding my time
for this
for you
building up points
in my salted sheets
in my lurid darkness
in my quiet desperations
all for that moment
in the morning
when the sun creeps
Across your skin
and i feel you next to me
i breathe my first open
Breath
i thank you
for your meaning
for your soul
for Your story
for that look you give me
for the feeling that
i am for You
and i've never
been for anyone
The gluttony of my heart when I cannot get enough of you. The waves of solid, steady feelings when it all seems too much. The rise of your chest when my head rests against it. The way I hear only you in a crowded room and our eyes meet, alone. I want for you in my morning sun and in between breaths. And for once, I welcome my greed.