*Dedicated to the geezer that laughed at the first and only poem he's ever and will ever read from me. It's not my best, but he doesn't deserve my best, anyway. I don't love you--that was added for dramatic effect, but I do still wish for you to be the focal male within my life, because my feelings for you still haven't changed after a year without you. Lucky me.
Tremors quake athwart the goose bumps running circles across my skin,
leaving silver whispers to dance within my tainted blood--infecting.
Each scream arises, only to be muffled by the intensity of your caress,
and another futile caffeine high decides to put itself to waste.
Your stares begin to simmer as my pulse sets off to sway within your palms,
kissing wishes through the shattered promises swimming down these drains.
Another set of wrinkled sheets entwined within the grating sighs of histories,
clandestinely start to smuggle liquors into the russet browns of souls.
Treasured greetings escape our lips before the guardians interrupt--
exchanging whispers through blank-eyed stares of confusion led astray.
And another drop of hesitation spreads throughout our desperate fingers,
leading boundaries to crumble beneath our silent pleas to dream veracity.
(A second chance is all we beg, but our pride forgives only the first mistake,
preventing any double take to ever commence upon its desired course.)
