May 2012
3 posts
1 tag
How I Feel about Writing
With her words she grabbed my hands. Latched onto me as if Without one of us We would waste away and float forever. Dust to dust. But sometime later, She threw me into space. Though sometime soon, When I plummet back I will not hit. I’ll miss the dirt. Kiss the dirt. And grab some paper, Use them as wings.
3 tags
Hip to Hip
I often dream of you, Forehead to forehead, chest to chest, hip to hip. Your breath shuttling over my body again, Like it was trying to get somewhere. Afterward, you hovered over me- Every part of you pressing into me. Heavy enough as to let us know you’re there. Light enough as not to crush me. My hands ran over your back, And in the most astonished crevasse of my mind, Pretended that they...
Growing
Kiss the thorns And you may bleed Kiss the rose And it may die Kiss the stem And we will rise Kiss the dirt And none will cry
5.6.12
Poet-a.tumblr.com
