Rythym and Blues
Your touch is all the makes the sun warm.
Your rise and shine is all I pray for.
Pretty brown eyes won’t you smile at me,
hold me close and make my day,
In your hands my world gets carried away
Only stop is to ecstasy
Loving the manner in which the priceless lifts me from lifeless to the heavens by way of this tight embrace. Touching this night with you holding onto our good night kiss, still, it feels of pure joy in being next to you.
Blessed to live under the very same breeze.
mouth and belly filled with the same sweetness of knowing these times, in this same space.
Oh the joys your name make. Pains and aches remedied, hurt undone with earned trust and the panacea in the touch of your fingertips against my face.
Heard the frequency of a yellow sun broadcast how we could forever cover one another from shades of blue, with me, counting every second giving thanks for every way of you.
Drink in these kisses,
Drunk on fine wine,
Feel you tickling my bones,
Every fantasy leads to me seeing your body on mine.
A toast to the memories both real and imagined.
Facts of me inside of you will blissfully forever be,
Quenched my thirst for breath and kisses, in the same you breathe into me.
May I beg you for more?
And when I do, I have you know it’s no pity required because I adore,
adoration turns into need,
Elation births belief,
Magnified ten everytime we touch.
Had it not been for opening my landscape of mind’s eye to align the spectrum and scope of your views with mine…I would have never understood how beautiful life is.
So engulfed in that electric feeling,
The energy I’m plugged into goes to build the towering platform of 24 karat emotion we spire tall on as we make a lasting love.
Used to fear such heights.
Yet, through us I stand In Front of all our fears as if they no longer have the means to wound.
Protected through being Double dipped in your womb.
Find me giving every tinge of my everything to your joy, all due to being my best me in the care of you. …Knowing the dopamine derived in a forever with you outweighs every pleasure in heaven by a ton.
While the nightterrors of your war cry play,
My actual heartbeat sounds the drums of your ominous approach,
No hope in surviving unscathed by the way I weaken when your kiss touches my face.
My addiction to following your whims defines my fate,
Could use a little faith,
Should move away with quickened haste.
So afraid of how deep you cut in taking whole halves of everything I won’t give.
In letting you near,
My own grave I dig,
Before sunrise we will witness you not only win… but too take a dig into my spirits.
Its like you have no joy in my deflation and death unless you too get to dip your bare hands into my blood.
Post traumatically scarred by the way you come and go untouched,
Offeringing promise and a place to voice my worries and wonders unabashed.
Still stunned on the ways your forms of chaos changed the landscape of mind.
So ashamed that I embraced the Pillaging with a smile thinking it could make me worthy of affection.
With open arms deemed it necessary and still to this hour believe it all to mean love.
Scavenging in the darkness for trace elements of the lord’s light.
The Weight of baggage turns feet weary at the juncture where physical and mental anguish choose to meet.
Thus tears fall.
You witnessed me bawl
Then proceeded to share with the both the knowing and undiscovered how forms of anguish such as thes remind you to be thankful for the good life.
Word reached me.
I set up camp on my bedroom floor. I prayed for myself to have a good night.
Woke with the reflection in the mirror shining back bagged eyes and a scene set by my expanding worry looming ominous over my shoulder in the backdrop.
No bosom to lay has life bashing me by the balls.
Tragic thoughts hang ominous as all action in this saga stalls.
I’m up way before the rooster calls,
And i’m knowing every degree of how restless a single night can be;
Line them up back to back 7 in a row,
Now i’m deathly weak.
No satisfaction to be had out of a weekend:
Wherever you witness me pray on the sabbath, know it had everything to do with touch.
My current version of shades of blue: Everything to do with reach.
Phone dont ring,
Such means My words dont sing,
Even my maker didn’t feel the need to hear me.
Even the gold diggers wont near me;
Fuck does it matter who I out cash when my flash incompatible with making connections.