It’s hotter than hell in here
She whispers, her hot breath pouring down my neck as it mixes with sweat and anxiety. Flows, flows like the heat between her legs. Hotter than hell.
Open them up
Windows closed because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of people seeing in, I’m afraid of running out, of running out of sanity of running out of words. Words.
Look at me
Her eyes are full of brimstone, fiery and smooth. Smooth like the cigarette that burns between her lips. Burning desire, burning poetry, burning eyes. Hotter than hell. Fire and brimstone and windows that can’t open. Fear and anxiety.
Kiss me
Kiss me Kate, can’t be tamed, flowing free and burning out. Full lips that drip lava and ashes and love and hate and speak with all the passion of the building heat. Pouts that go unanswered, stagnant emotions, stagnant actions, stagnant lives.
Come to me
Calls and promises and lust between two. Unholy, sexual manifestations, bodies too alike being the main attraction. No god or too many look down, look down with eyes of fire and brimstone, burning desire, burning poetry, burning eyes. Religious experience, sexual encounters. It’s hotter than hell in here.
I am your world
No life outside the windows that can’t be opened, hell and roses and fire and sex. Alcohol burns and clove worlds, delicate hands that worm their way around forbidden roads and promises and speaks of closed windows.
I love you
Full lips that drip lava and ashes and love and hate and speak with all the passion of the building heat. Eyes of brimstone, fiery and smooth. No god or too many, burning, burning, hot. Sex and prayers, sweat and dripping. Opening and coming and looking and loving. Hotter than burns, hotter than words, hotter than love
Hotter than hell.
10:35 pm
April 17, 2002
Last Night
I met a girl last night, and I found a kindred spirit. We spoke without saying a word, and we saw into each other’s hearts. We were magic.
I met a girl last night, and I was amazed. She held my hand, but kept me at bay — shifting like dandelion seeds in the wind. Never did I grow bored, and never did I get ahead. She was a mystery.
I met a girl last night, and I fell in love. Her soft pale skin was supple and enticing. Her kisses were always warm and her words were always gentle. When we were together time stopped, and our love was always sweet.
I lived a life last night, through poetry and prose. I was born in a shuffling of papers, made love to lost memories, and died at the stroke of a red pen.
October 16, 2001
Plea
Hold me.
My feet are pounding pavement and
The clocks are ticking
Into sand and my heart
Is beating through my chest
And I just need you to
Hold me.
Kiss me
With sweet lips tinged with
Personal salt and
Sorrow and the regrets of
Morning lights and reality and the
Longing for just one
Kiss.
See me
As I am and not how
I show myself
In public or
In sheets, but see me in
Your heart of hearts
And
Love me
Like a child lost,
A mother leaving,
A lover scorned
A brother dead.
Love me
And not the skin and sheets
Hold me
And stop my pounding feet
And kill me
With a salty kiss.
May 28, 2002
10:04 pm