You Better RunAbove the beach lay sand dollars.Beautiful, perfect but brittle.Curving in on themselves.Debating over who is the most beautiful.Etching their fragmenting histories into the sand.Face the ocean with me.Grab fist-fulls of sand so that you will feel connected.Hold my heart ever so gently.Ignite that sleeping passion.Just know that I will never doubt you.Kirks will never displease me.Lips the shade of sand.Make goosebumps rise upon my skin. Nothing will ever make me fear your love.Opening my heart to yours.Place your heart within mine.Quaking, shaking as the waves curl around us.Rest your head on my shoulder.Stand with me by your side.Tell me that I am your true love.Unfurl like fall leaves, tumbling from above our heads.Vixen with sharp claws.Waves of fire clasp themselves around our ankles.
One HeartPure honey rimmed with black.Apples of your cheeks brimming.Lips the soft under-belly of a sea shell.Ears as wide as they will stretch.Freckles dance amongst your skin.A flickering light grasps your hand.Your heart patters like rain against the glass.Hands clasped.Arms bowed.Eyes forever open.Hoping to catch your love.A bittersweet smile.Jeans riding low on your hips.Lips raw.Eyes bright.Sunday morning stretches like a lazy catAcross our shoulders.Pillows plush.Covers soft.But the softest thing,Is your hand in mine.
IncasedYour breath fans out,Brushing againstThe cliff facesOf my cheeks.A rouge flameignights justAbove my breast bone.Your hands holdIt close to your chest,Rekindling the redHot passion dwellingJust below my skin.
Female SoldierBrittle with golden age.Frail before a heart beats hatching.Honed eye lids closed.New with springs rush.Toes before your heels.Eye lashes flutter.Lips the shade of peaches.Succulent and ripe.Wrapped within your skin.Burrowed beneath your ribs.Clutched gently by your diaphragm.A heart dances in the rain.
Calling HomeThe fridge in my kitchen holds no food.It's racks grimace as cans are stackedIn a single row.They have a weight to carry.A stomachs complain to cause.Our eyes stay glued to it's empty inside,Like an ocean without the salt water.Our hands lay sticky with sweat,With need to have a complete, healthy meal.The telephone that used to ring has been turnedOff months ago.It's voice wasn't one to be heard.It's secrets kept locked up in the hands of the rich.We still keep the shell, hoping that somethingCould breath the life back into it.Pressing their lips to the cold buttonsAnd kissing every last once of them.Money is something sacred to us;A rarity.I used to press my fingers against the undersides ofDollar bills, just to see if the faces would wink at me.But that was years ago.Before I learned the truth.That no everyone's rich.I didn't get a car for my eighteenth birthday.Nor did I have the need of one.I'll use the bottoms of my feet to carry me through life.The inne
A Feathers TouchTo carve out the angelWith wings as white as snowAnd lungs deeper than the sea.Set her free from this marble slab.I know you can already see her lipsForming a teasing smirk.You can even feel the breath comingFrom her diaphragm and onto your lips.Form her lines under your hands,Mold her into the most beautiful shape even knowAnd help her become who she really wants to be.