poetry/
there's something sapphic about the way she says my name
there's something tragic in the way he holds out his hand
there's something magic in their eyes when for my love they sang
there's something nostalgic in the way that I ran (to their a...
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There's nothing holy in the way he kneels at your feet, But my god, there is but devotion in his eyes.
Like someone roaming a desert, Touching water to their lips after drought. He parches for your touch, For your tongue to lick the heat away.
Cover his eyes with silken cloth, And watch him blindly grope for you. Press against his back with your palm. Whisper his name into his ear.
He worships you, The temple he prays at is your body. He worships you, The prayers he whispers are pleads for your kiss.
If religion could be a person, For sure you would be his. Holy Scriptures have no need, When your teeth can leave all the marks.
His skin now red as blood. Tears like droplets of gold staining his cheeks. Cover his shoulders in silk and diamond. Press your pearls against his lips.
This is your forever. A heaven you can feel on your tongue. You have an angel wrapped in your sheets. Will you make him stay?
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