9/30/11
9/23/11
Stakes is high
Infatuation is a very tricky thing, too much too soon turns into obsession. Over an extended period it can turn into the L word... Still in the initial stages so I think it's cool sooooo not ready for the L word right now... I miss his face =[
9/6/11
Sorry...
First it was Tumblr, then my niece and nephew now it's school... I'll try to post more often, scouts honor
Something new I wrote last week, hope you enjoy it
Somewhere,
There is a man
Marred just enough to remind you of his human
His scent is electric,
Like the third rail draped in flesh.
Sometimes,
I am terrified to touch him,
Afraid that spark may jump ship and incinerate the dry wit I insulate myself with.
Tastes, of Sunday morning sunrise
Sweet inferno illuminates secrets seconds before I stow them in the ivory cavern of his mouth
A place, so stunning, words tend to linger a moment longer than they should,
trying in vain to commit the terrain to memory.
Conceiving a lisp, only noticed by those lost for hours in that pearl cage.
He is a man
Lower, upon which that face rests is a hollow, surrounded by hills.
Curves of neck, where I hide my fears.
Heart, whispers love notes
Only heard when pectorals become pillows,
Found my solace in his sinew
Downward more, Iron sculpted peaks and valleys
dusted in auburn mirror the brush of plains at dusk,
It feels of the earth here.
Jungle sprouts from it's southern edge
Out of which a lone oak rises, source of life for those who care to nurture it.
There are knees, that bend and move, sometimes shake when beads of sweat become lanterns in the moonlight, fall like firebombs setting skin ablaze.
Feet firmly rooted appear fused to the hardwood the same hue as hands
Known to bring tears, screams, laughter and sighs, without doing harm, in the course of a night
All parts accounted, none matter apart from the whole
He is a man
Something new I wrote last week, hope you enjoy it
Somewhere,
There is a man
Marred just enough to remind you of his human
His scent is electric,
Like the third rail draped in flesh.
Sometimes,
I am terrified to touch him,
Afraid that spark may jump ship and incinerate the dry wit I insulate myself with.
Tastes, of Sunday morning sunrise
Sweet inferno illuminates secrets seconds before I stow them in the ivory cavern of his mouth
A place, so stunning, words tend to linger a moment longer than they should,
trying in vain to commit the terrain to memory.
Conceiving a lisp, only noticed by those lost for hours in that pearl cage.
He is a man
Lower, upon which that face rests is a hollow, surrounded by hills.
Curves of neck, where I hide my fears.
Heart, whispers love notes
Only heard when pectorals become pillows,
Found my solace in his sinew
Downward more, Iron sculpted peaks and valleys
dusted in auburn mirror the brush of plains at dusk,
It feels of the earth here.
Jungle sprouts from it's southern edge
Out of which a lone oak rises, source of life for those who care to nurture it.
There are knees, that bend and move, sometimes shake when beads of sweat become lanterns in the moonlight, fall like firebombs setting skin ablaze.
Feet firmly rooted appear fused to the hardwood the same hue as hands
Known to bring tears, screams, laughter and sighs, without doing harm, in the course of a night
All parts accounted, none matter apart from the whole
He is a man
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