Overzealous my aura is.
I shriek!
" What have I got myself into ? "
The loom of my demons is a nurturing hand upon my shoulder.
The muscle memory of pain acts as a searing handbrake.
My eyelids seize at the grip of sharp shards of glass
Turning a blink into a static twitch
And yet I summoned myself beside you.
I curse my silver tongue.
If I am the man of your dreams,
Then behold my nightmares as well.
The gleam of your melanin cut a canyon through my clouded halo.
You then peeled back my force field and sat under my umbrella
And when your silhouette invaded my periphery,
Our pulsing aura sent gravity cowering in fear as tears retreated to the heavens.
And now
All I hear is your acapella
In the form of atoms buzzing plasma when our lips touch
Igniting a match within the vacuum of my rib cage,
A blaze which burns outside of spacetime, without oxygen.
YOU ARE READING
THE IMPROMPTU MANIFEST.
Poetry" SPARK!" Poems Of Utter Spontaneity. The Raw and Unfiltered Emotion Of Living Life Without Cuffs and With Your Heart On Your Sleeve. The Pushing Of Intuition Into The Everyday World. Let It Flow. Let It Flow. And Let Words Spark Life To LIFE.
