I wouldn’t mind if every day I had to get up to do work;
which would be to rehearse some type of classical instrument with others in a sort of musical ensemble.
Listen sweet thing; I’m not very political
And it seems like you’re pretty basic
And simply enjoy the sun, too
And strawberries, ripe fruits,
Chocolate cake, smiling
Hugging and caressing
Laying on the beach, bare
Making love and enjoying life.
What else is life but a tasty quench from succulent fruits?
Sweet goods, sunlight, and warm weather
Wide embraces, soft kisses behind the ears
Short chats and easy laughs
What else is life but cooing talks
And sweet sweet touch
To not be with you
To not tear your skin open
To not devour your soul
While the clock ticks tick tock
You have a way of surprising me. Your show-stopping eyes… I swear that it’s still; it’s a painting. You’re a piece of some marvelous artwork. When I least expect it, you walk into the room and just glow
heaven’s pure white light.
The life in your face
The sun’s tender kisses on your skin. I didn’t know you could almost be my tone.
Who are you, who are we?
You have an uncanny ability
To leave me breathless.
That stark white collar against the back of your darkened neck. An unexpected bolt of lightning electrifies my heart. You look back for a split second, and stagger at my golden hue. I’m glad I could do it to you. Glad you could see it too. I always thought I could outshine you, but you out-did me boy. I’m stupefied. With those shimmering stubbles framed around your nape,
(Can I touch it?)
That look of utter demand you carry. Do you want me to say something?
Standing before me. Made of sleek, smoking ice
Making me burn
Dancing, at your feet.
As if it was just last year