Young Hearts.

Chronicles of my heart

Back seat of that bus.

Adolescent guts —

You bit me hard

Down my spine,

I felt that rush.

“Pull me closer,”

“If you must.”

Trickle and shiver,

That virgin gush of lust.

Art.

Killed with that smile,

Please let it last.

Paintings of you,

Made with brushes of lust.

Play with this child,

All night till dusk.

Now close up that mile,

Come into me fast.

Haze.

A nostalgic scent

Of unwanted feelings and crying eyes;

Of unfulfilled dreams and hunger to succeed;

Of unfated soulmates and lingering touches;

Of unwritten poems and stashed thoughts.

The smell of haze

And a hazy future are synonyms.

A reminder of we’ve come far,

But not quite far enough.

Chance.

A hidden love;

A silent word.

Emotional glances;

Swift advances.

You ignited this fervour,

Now I’d take all the chances.

Closer.

Your scent,

The air I breathe.

My favorite temperature,

The heat you emit.

Fondness

Missing you when we’re apart.

But — we’re always apart

Since close is never close enough.

Damp.

Quivering,

At how he made her feel.

Damp clothes,

Damn clothes.

She said, “It’s burning up —

Gotta take them off you.”

Baby it’s burning up —

Layers on him she started to peel.

Cheap Thrill.

Nervous and sensitive, 

You were short-fused.

Naive and innocent,

I was easily amused.

Me and you,

We had overnight deals.

Deliberately obtuse,

That I felt for you.

The layers you peeled,

They’ve yet to fully heal.

You were my muse,

But I was a mere cheap thrill.

Sweet Suite.

Rooftop love,

High floor suites.

Countless glasses of whisky,

Naked as they can be.

 

They draw on spirituality;

They connect with sensuality.

Rhythmic compatibility

Physical and emotionally.

 

Gramophone,

And outdated diskettes.

Paired with deep breaths,

And lingering kisses.

 

Names were repeated,

Like temple chants slowed.

An affair passionate,

It couldn’t have lasted.

 

It was hell of a gamble,

Of selfishness and greed.

It was a night to remember,

They both agreed.

Immense.

How do I get the message to you,

The one that says “I really like you.”

 I can’t understand what’s happening to me,

And I really want to stop this.

I’m not really young,

And my soul feels old.

I can’t find any other attractive,

Because I can’t get over you.

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