Love
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I made you too uncomfortable. To many questions beyond your comprehension “How can I support you?” “What do you need in a relationship?” “What does honesty mean to you?” My third eye inquisitive and recognizing frightened you with its accuracy You never knew if you could measure up to the man I saw in you
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I took some of your burden. To create a space to place myself. To create a space for me to breathe To place my late night fears But you overflowed I couldn’t keep up Too many Too much Too few Fair exchange is no robbery But this wasn’t fair. There was no exchange. I carried
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“I thought the world would revolve without us,” the singer sang The world demanded them their time their energy their gifts But in each other, they created a space only penetrable by a shared heartbeat Breathes slowed Stressed eased Spirits whispered With the kiss of lips, phones forgotten Waking up to fifteen messages and three
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I knew I would miss you before I said goodbye. I knew I would spend the night crying and listening to her sing “I won’t pretend.” I knew all I wanted was your voice in my ear while my arms held you and to kiss you good morning. I knew I would wonder if you
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I want to devour you Sit on top of your lips Thighs choking you Drown you until you can’t breathe anything except me Ride your tongue until it hurts Ferocious on your dick Thrashing my legs until I cum once twice three times My release vicious Leaving you hard and helpless Ravage you Peel back
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I used to be a poet Until I fell in love I used to be a poet And dream about putting you into haikus Singing sonnets about your smiles Iambic pentameter about your interactive love and rhymes I used to be a poet And use the colors of the rainbow to describe you Your skin
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He couldn’t have known that when he sent me the text that I had my hand on my thigh and the his touch on my mind. As the sound of D’Angelo’s How Does It Feel faded on the video and Floetry’s Say Yes came on I traced my finger with thoughts of him. How I
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He made me return to writing poetry. When we talked, it wasn’t violins that played, but sonnets that whispered on his lips. I could feel the letters moving in my heart, not yet taking shape but there, waiting to be released. He had been everything I asked for. And yet… We were here. Letters, locked.
Wandering & Wondering 