Monday, July 19, 2010

371: not moving

From a somewhat shy kinda fly girl u may know.
To the beauty which hopscotched continents....

You eyes remind me of home.
They are soft and consistent.
How they seem to know enough of what they want without needing to wonder.

Your lips,
they remind me of all the world I have not yet had the honor of understanding.
They feel enough to remember.
They are mysteries visible enough to be torturous.

Your hands,
hold like daughters.
Touch like ocean water.
Move like tides,
they are seamless.
Feel sewn into my skin and soul
like the mixture of purpose and desire.

You Are a poem that cannot be written.
It cannot be done justice.
And yet many will try and fail and go unnoticed.
Tonight I'm calling my attempt out to the universe,
I'm watching the solar system chuckle in my defeat.
Im calling my lips: unworthy,
my heart: hard and open,
my skin: waiting,
my eyes: evil.

I'm calling me everything that wants to move u
but doesn't

No comments:

Post a Comment