Here's to you.
To life, to love, to things that will be,
and to what should or could have been.
To the sight of your smile,
more often than tears or frowns.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
over
Got no words this time,
though time is all that's left.
Thoughts still wander
to way back when.
My reflection makes me shudder.
though time is all that's left.
Thoughts still wander
to way back when.
My reflection makes me shudder.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
recurring
I dreamt;
the smell of your shampoo.
skin on skin was still in.
Chest gently heaving up and down
while you snoozed and I looked on.
And it was you,
the scent you left behind.
Just a memory now, I suppose.
Vacancy sign on my bedpost.
Room for one more.
This once shiny new key is starting to rust,
Just have to find a new door.
I swept the broken pieces off the floor.
Mediocre rhymes and rhythms replace an old familiar tune.
It's sinking in.
But the dreams won't stop,
and I still have to get up.
And beneath the sheets
where 2 pairs of feet
would often times meet;
Where flesh and whispers and truths
once converged.
All's left is an empty urge.
*cue in alarm bell ring.
the smell of your shampoo.
skin on skin was still in.
Chest gently heaving up and down
while you snoozed and I looked on.
And it was you,
the scent you left behind.
Just a memory now, I suppose.
Vacancy sign on my bedpost.
Room for one more.
This once shiny new key is starting to rust,
Just have to find a new door.
I swept the broken pieces off the floor.
Mediocre rhymes and rhythms replace an old familiar tune.
It's sinking in.
But the dreams won't stop,
and I still have to get up.
And beneath the sheets
where 2 pairs of feet
would often times meet;
Where flesh and whispers and truths
once converged.
All's left is an empty urge.
*cue in alarm bell ring.
Friday, July 10, 2009
dot.
like music.
stirring every sense
in my body,
swaying gently to every note.
Would your touch do as much?
My mind wanders;
Like many hands and fingers,
lightly along every inch of me.
stirring every sense
in my body,
swaying gently to every note.
Would your touch do as much?
My mind wanders;
Like many hands and fingers,
lightly along every inch of me.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
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