Her hands make the flesh of my neck tingle
Before igniting a feverish burn that
Spreads to my every fiber.
Capable of molding me to her every whim,
She needs no blueprint;
Experience has taught her that it won’t be
Long now, and my shape begins to take form.
Eyes glaze over like a fine French pastry,
Delicat(essen)ly designed for optimal flavor.
Her influence has made me believe that I am not
Alone;
Others exist, both in this world and the next.
She is calm tonight. The moonlight reflects and
I see her in a new light; David Blane’s tricks
Are miniscule in her lens.
Only she can find a way to keep me from
Remembering to forget the bad times;
My body craves the best of her,
And I know even(tually) she will have to consent.
I pray that day will come soon,
For I fear she may think I’m too needy;
Life is hard when you’ve hit thirty/a dead end job/the wall,
But she makes me forget about my shortcomings/past/pain.
I think she’s figured this out.
She’s been asking a lot of me lately,
And tonight she said she wants to see the stars.
I borrow a neighbor’s car and drive
Until there is no more light, just a shower of sparks
Raining from above.
I want to show her how much she means to me,
So I get out of the car and take her to my third story roof
The stars came to life and danced for us
With shapes and colors; Silent Fireworks.
Her hand grips me tight, and I think this could be it!
Tonight she’ll finally fall for me!
She whispers in my ear and sends shivers down my spine;
I swear I’d sprout wings if her hands would will it.
There is a passion in her voice that I’ve never heard before,
Surely she knows I would attend her every word.
I tell her that, when I’m with her, I feel that I could fly,
And she convinces me to try.
As my toes let go of the shingles, I tell her that
I am her cloth, she is the needle, and my only wish is that,
Someday,
Her stitches will make me into a masterpiece.
