You took your hand, and you held my face, and you didn’t tremble, you didn’t shake. Your hand felt cool against my cheek... I think I was warmer than usual, because you were sitting so close, in more than just a physical sense. You touched my face, and it made me wonder, has anybody ever … Continue reading I was afraid of you, because of the way you touched me.
"You are a sunburn; you came with happy times spent in sunny days, and you left me with the coming of autumn and the bright orange leaves."
"He loves me." He shared with me his secrets, Hidden between kisses. I stockpiled every last one, Treating them like stained glass; I avoided touching them, But I loved watching the world Through his colorful view. ~He loves me not.~ He only ever looked at me Through a rainbow lens, And it leaves me … Continue reading He loves me; he loves me not.
Her hands trace over your body, And as they move down your neck The butterflies in your stomach Melt into a solid mass Of fear and uncertainty For what her hands will find… The scars you’ve tried to hide In your summer hoodies And forced affinity for jeans. Her fingers reach your shoulder, Burning … Continue reading “I loved the way she touched me, the way she ran her hands over my past without reservation.”
Your lips were stained The same shade as dandelions, And I was caught up In the promise of a short winter, Where my wishes could be heard Beyond the veil of stars, Carried on those white seeds That feel lighter than air. A single taste was all it took To reveal the obvious; The … Continue reading If we were made out of the sky, I’d be the chilling wind, you’d be the Summer heat, and together we’ll form pockets of clouds, blocking out the Sun, throwing barrels of thunder and lightning over the edge of the world without a care.
I want fate to touch My crowning breath, To blister in its fever As it traces crimson Around naked necks. It’s a vibrant sensation, Echoing the shade of dusk Throughout my bones Until they are reduced To Georgia Red Clay.