« Home | To The Barber » | Trees » | A Thought » | Suicidal's Hair Color On Hallows Eve » | Waiting » | 0919-629-974x » | On Waking Up » | Sadness » | Lyra » | The Humorist »

Lust

your lips softer than dying sheets
of pages in a decade-aged book

your eyes fierce as the jaws of dawn,
summoning yesterday's musical memory

and skin wet and breath so calm
i hear your hidden words rushing in haste

toward my soul, my tongue:

Tonight let me melt your taste.

Labels:

Post a Comment