The wind shifts, stark storm breaks

Wind gives way to whispers
Silent voices dripping soft words
Rush of blood from pounding heart
Obscura
Soft details
Bend and flake
Desperate reality
Senses fill
Can’t quite make the disconnect
Between action and consequence
Peeled tongue
Skinned knuckles
Anything to feel
Oppressive weight of empty

Slipped away
Stagnate pain shifting
Her smile wipes it away
But in remembrance
In truth
The falseness of this hope
Bleeds out faster than blood

And still
I know
It was real

The things I know

I’ll sing you a song
Of all the future minutes and mistakes
Of triumphs and tragedy
But never will I leave you

I’ll write you a story
Of all things passion and pain
Of fantasy and fact
But never will I break you

I’ll speak you a poem
Of all words wild and simple
Of truth and despair
But never will you doubt

I would make a world
With us at the center
And rise each day
Certain of your heart
But never for granted
I’ll earn you anew
Love is not only a feeling
It is a action
A choice

And I’ve made mine

A release of breathe

Her settles me down
As much as I bring comfort
And I’m needful but scared to
Just waiting for yes, you

Her poetry for me
And I for hers
I’ve learned some caution
Not nearly enough

Our touches are innocent
Excepting the maelstrom of desire that fuels them
Our words hidden
And behind our masks, improperly fitted, flash looks and smiles that burn

We are shadows of dancing flame
Shifting, waiting
For your decision
Made behind the walls
Of your prison

Maybe…

Wanting you all the time
Needing to taste your body and your mind
Wanting your stories
And the look on your face as you lose yourself to pleasure
Needing to feel your skin whenever
And to hear your thoughts on Pablo Neruda
Wanting your voice to talk with confidence about everything in your world, including me
Maybe I’m selfish
Maybe I want too much