If it were up to me, I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t smile. I wouldn’t talk much. I’d be sitting by the beach all day, writing, quenching thirst with juice in the other hand. Bare skinned and in a swimsuit, lounging and dipping into the smelting hot golden sand. Letting my skin bake into the brownest that it could possibly get. If it were up to me, I’d have coconut oil in my hair soaking into each strand hungrily. Squinting my eyes and looking up, I’d watch the movement of the sun all day as it glides across the sky from east to west, or up and down… whatever it is that it does. Time would go as slow as it possibly could go. I’d stare into the face of the distant horizon, thoughtless and unafraid. If it were up to me, I’d have an ardent romance and risk it all. I’d twirl in trance to the staccato echoes of the sea, aimlessly.
Is a wish to be free
There’s a lot of pain, and you slowly die in the process
It’s as if you no longer have control over yourself
And all your molecules; all the pieces of love that make you
diffuse into the ground, as you sink in
I can’t gather you, wrap my arms around you, save you
I myself don’t know who I am
I can only fall apart
And let pieces of my self diffuse apart
Hold your hand
And disappear with you
The voice tells me to get into the elevator and to go to a certain floor. I do so as told. Instinct tells me to walk down the hallway. There’s promise of a grand prize; the greatest thing, the highest goal. There’s supposed to be something that I’ve always wanted at the finish. I’m told to open the door. I do so.
And there you stand, behind that door
wearing a black and white tuxedo. Your chiseled face looking even sharper against the shadows. Your creamy skin and shiny hair, contrasting each other. Your glass-like eyes, contracting in the spotlight directed at you.
You are fully attentive and looking at me,
but with a look of worry. Wordlessly, you give a notion that you want me back, that you’re begging for me now. That you’re willing to disregard everything for me and that I could too, for you.
But there’s something unkind, untrustworthy, and cold about this whole new setup. There’s doubt brewing in my gut.
There’s an uneven tune playing in my ears.
And there’s a sad, tragic, unstoppable feeling,
that I wished it were true.
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.
Each of my fingers imprint love over your back. Scented warm rose water ooze out of my pores. You’ve managed to unlock a chamber of my heart and decided to open it. And now you take care of the rest, as you hold me together. Bundling a puddle. Holding onto a slippery fish. You’ve owned it. You take the responsibility. It was your choice, your game, and you’ve won. And now you feast,
In full content
Hand to skin, and skin to hand
Pore to pore, and drop to drop
Back and forth
And forth to back
In a circle, in a pod floating down a heavenly path
We feast, head to head
And heart to heart.