influenced by Anushka-in repair. just me rambling about silly teenaged love.


These words don't feel like mine

I broke you open and drank the fire within that you kept so under control. Licking the flames as they singed my mind but I didn't care, because I had found you. In half shadows you speak in velvet caressing my cheek. I gather you up beneath my fingers, observing how the light dances on every thread of mellifluous skin and marble. Afraid to let go and leave you to the wind. I grasp and the knuckles turning white yet I refuse to be alone again. Every time we met you offered up your warmth as I filled you with ice. You are fire and I melt in your presence, left as a puddle on a sidewalk and the feet of trepidation scatter me and thin me out. I become the air you breathe and for those few euphoric moments I am within you in every vein and capillary, stretching to each finger tip and moving at the whim of your heart. To be trapped within that frame, if for only an instant, would make my trodden fame worthwhile. I squeeze the moments dry of each possibility because soon you will be gone, with the world at your side, and I will be left with the hollow memory of you, an translucent image conjured from each song I hear as I hold your indian gifts in my hand. You've given me a gift I could never have asked for, a brighter sun, because you are my king. I've fallen too deep, fallen at the foolhardy temptation of your smile. Each moment away I'm reminded of your touch with a twinge of longing, now diluted with promise, soon distilled by my inability to touch.



Poetry by Sparks
Read 497 times
Written on 2009-10-29 at 19:09

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