please, take me, there

but enter that holiness with care

do touch, but touch tender,

that dark myriad of nerves,

and let me tighten my grip,

let me hold you firm, and wet and warm,

push your throbbing flesh,

and push now, a bit more

and when you'r there, slide slowly

where pleasure meets pain

then, move around, there, and make me moan

She says that she's a wild thing

not to be in a cage

but she's trapped me in

a cage she wove

and I'm lost

in her

eyes.

Love has damaged me and I don't know if

I can go back to

Going to bed early

Writing about love like

It's not a face or a person but a concept

Something abstract

I don't know If i can go back to

Not wishing you'd put your hands all over my body and hold me tight, tighter I don't want any space between us

Don't let me breathe

Kiss me

Hold me tighter

Don't let me go

A kiss is more than just my lips on yours and my eyes are for more than just seeing. I understand every whisper your body tells me, every movement your tongue makes, every breath you take I feel it, I feel you.

I'm still learning the language of your skin, but when I hold your hand, I hope you know what I mean.

Hey, you’re not here

and I’m beginning

the crux

of my tomorrows

without you

safely tucked

inside my yearning heart.

I step into bleak darkness

of pregnant clouds,

as I strain to reach

your absent hand.

My tears congeal

in stagnant rivers, as

ribbons tying us together

become frayed

and tattered shreds.

The sky ignites,

spewing out

your flickering image

in volcanoes of

gray lava, leaving

a trail down the tracks

we have trod.

Although it was time

for you to leave,

you breathe

inside me

as I try

to copy and paste

the kisses I have saved.

But where is your sun?

It’s hard to imagine, but darkness is the inherent state of the Universe.

Our tiny blue - green marble spinning round’ a twinkling star catching equal parts darkness and light-- we are the illuminated anomaly in space. Populated by barely erect apes, shivering in the night' cowering in our beds clinging to our artificial lights till the relief of day comes creeping across the horizon... only to darken again with a twist of its axis.  Everything else came from the surrounding nothingness: spawned in darkness; swathed in darkness; and approaching-- in darkness.

…which is why, we never saw Them coming.   

There's always that one friend who sticks to the group like a discount sticker on a used book, and who is tolerated by necessity because any removal might leave behind a sticky residue. Among Skye, Keith, and Kim, this was Lames, whose Mom had long admitted to being high when she tried to write "James" on his birth certificate. When Skye, Keith, and Kim came upon the Cube, without hesitation they excluded Lames from the Pact. And they didn't care years later when, at Lames's 89th birthday, he glared bitterly at their youthful bodies. They could wait a little longer.