Shapeless as water,
You drown me in you,
Trying so hard to contain yourself inside mine,
Darling,
I am not a water pouch,
I can't carry you my love,
I'm made from lava,
So when you make love to me,
My skin turns to magma,
This tale isn't similar to icarus, where when he loved the sun so much her rays burnt him,
When you touch me with love,
I turn stone cold,
It's a reflex,
So when you touch me,
Don't create tsunamis yet,
Take time with me love,
So when we embrace,
Slowly by slowly,
You,
Lack of Shape,
Water,
I,
Lack of shape,
Lava,
Touch each other,
Bubbles you up,
With rage,
Kills you and I, stone magma,
This isn't just like icarus nor the sun,
This is when both of us die,
Unable to embrace each other,
To make love,
Your touch and mine,
Intertwined,
Shatters us like glass,
So love me afar my girl,
Love me from a distance,
And I,
Would keep you warm;
YOU ARE READING
The Half-Burnt Boy
PoetryFor all the prompts I find fascinating on this thing called the "World Wide Web," and random words I find interesting enough to add to this collection; I'll be crafting poems out of thin air like any magician would do 🪄 Copyright © 2021 by Aloka Wi...
