|
[20 Nov 2008|04:34pm] |
I am suddenly bathed in the scent of your bath soaps, awaken from my sleep by the feeling of water surrounding me and your hands pressing down on my chest. I can see your face, distorted, through waves of water that splash around me and all I can hear is the thudding of my heart and the swishing of liquid around me. It's bright and cold, there's no feeling in my limbs at all. I open my mouth to speak and I am flooded like the world when Noah was around. My heart is pounding and then there is nothing left in my body. It's dark now, silent and without any type of color.
I am sure I am dead until I see your face again, your body is warm and I am naked and shivering. You hold me so close that my heartbeat begins to match yours and I can hear you singing; it completely surrounds me.
"You're alive," is all you say, and I understand now. It makes so much sense.
|
|
| skin. |
[10 Jun 2008|10:34pm] |
I want to remember the way your hair locked around my fingers as you climbed through my window on the afternoon of rain that began all of the floods. I want to remember because the way your skin tasted was sweeter than sugar itself- the curve of your fingertips against my collar bone and the sound of the static-driven television set over in the corner. Playing a show that never made any sense on a day that never had a date. I am retaining my sense of self worth as you let your hands trace me and whatever I have that has become my vessel is yours to keep. This body is not one I am familiar with, this flesh and bone and color. I am unfamiliar with the tones of my voice, but with the gasps you drive into my back I am positive there is more to me than could ever be known.
I do not know when I will touch you again, when I will feel the heat of your breath on my neck as we fall asleep curled in a bed that is far too big for one person. I am going to count down the days until I can feel the strings of your heart loosen against my own and then I will know you are close and you, you will know where you belong.
|
|
| 2. |
[01 Mar 2008|02:12am] |
|
I am wondering if you saw me down by the creek, dipping myself in the water to see if I could ease the flames that were building in my eyes and arms. You paint your words when I am watching from around the corner. You create these beautiful things with no names and you hold the brush to your lips like it is a soft lover and you touch the paper like it's virgin and you hum a song that I have heard before, perhaps from you when we lay in bed and hold hands because we just need that bit of heat to keep us awake. I am wondering why we are so alone and why we are so content without all of these words between us. I think I am flattered because you asked to draw me, I think I am flattered because you touched my face with your fingers when I could not hear you tell me to turn my face; knowing you could have just spoken louder, but you reached forward and stroked the side of my face and I am both flattered and embarrassed that I kissed your fingers with my lips and you held them there and stared into my eyes. I am afraid I am turning you into my life. I am terrified of letting you watch me smolder like the ashes of leftover incense on our candle stands.
|
|
| 1. |
[28 Feb 2008|07:20am] |
You would think the answers would flow here; my home away from home.
Perhaps I can find what it is that makes my ever-beating heart tick.
Maybe in my legs and arms I will build a roaring flame and have it smothered by your body.
I realize that in this cabin with you I need no other to satisfy me, and if our secrets were
mountains they'd be the highest and the most beautiful and people would come from all over to conquer us.
I slept wrapped inside your arms like a growing butterfly, my wings aching for the feeling of freedom, but the comfort
was overwhelming and my sleepy eyes refused to let me think otherwise as I left specs of my comet dust on your chest.
You talk in your sleep in that accent. We still don't know what accent it is but you're either drunk or asleep or either way it'll
make one of us laugh like we used to; smile like we used to before all of this dust and broken bed posts came to be.
We both wonder where our families are, wrapped inside this dark blue comforter that makes me think I am beneath the waves.
We both wonder because we're both alone, and we're weakly trying to compensate with kissing fingertips or touching chests
or magnifying the differences of our bodies in the cold darkness of our separate bedrooms. I use my hands as yours and
wonder if you'd mind touching me like you used to touch the others, or are you so scared of wanting something so far away
from reality that you've just talked yourself into believing that I am another daydream, or nightmare.
I love the way your clothes fit my frame and you wouldn't see the drastic change in measurement if it weren't for my bony arms
and shoulders. Let me trace the lines of your body and feel the roughness of your hands on my stomach, let me warm you
on these cold nights when you think you'll freeze but are afraid to burn. I sit up and watch the sunset through the trees and I
always know you're staring through the window, confused and amazed by what it is I am doing, by who it is that I am.
|
|
| here is something to bring the night. |
[26 Feb 2008|08:22pm] |
I am a fire pixie,
I absorb flame and produce heat.
In your sleep I warm your body and wrap around you like a thermal blanket.
I am lewd and in love with the taste of sugar.
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8){kind=small}
pepperincense's journal