our bodies

her body

Long falling locks, limousine eyelashes. The mystique of the things she didn't say to me, the thoughts in her pretty head.

My doe-eyed beauty, she blinks once and she's a cunning fox, three more and she's a Jane Doe.

What does anyone know about my Jane Doe that I don't? She's my delusion angel with her lips and melancholic, pondering smile.

Her voice. The fire to my genius with just a few sentences worth. She tells tall tales, she's a liar. We could lie to each other like lovers do.

The swell of her form. Her form beneath mine, supine in the night time. Our bodies entangled. We're thinking, feeling and healing. We could be comfortable with life's unknowns if we had just a few certainties.

I'll catch her falling tears and fill up a shot glass. This is the end of our days, the end of dazes, the end of our lifelong phases.

Her supple hands, the arc of her soft shoulders, the curve of her hips. Her body is locked in time to me and with me, we slow dance, her form moves in time with mine.

Her lithe legs writhe as we indulge in our carnality. The heat of her sex hotter than the cold of her shoulder, these tears are for my wineglass.

My truths of her body are mine alone, the only part of her I get to hold. She is in the real world, I'm from the stomach of the Earth. We're in completely different worlds.

In the same way that bodies can bring two people together, ours kept us further apart. We're two halves of what we didn't know were broken pieces.

She's my delusion angel