Saturday, September 14, 2013

He Mea Iki

Her hands fall to her sides
Fingertips once laced through long dark strands
Now free
Hair that makes the night question it's black
The stale scent of wine and cigarettes on her breath 
And yet
She is radiant

The other
Will press her lips together 
As if to beg the beautiful one closer
Neither move
One heart stutters with a howl to the moon
The clash of body's fantacies

And the sun is gone
And there is a galaxy of space pushing through their silence
A calm static moving over skin

And the younger one is scared
And the other is still
And they don't belong
But her hair fell perfectly over slim shoulders
So what else could they do but shiver into each other

One is beautiful
The other is watching
And lust is a cold evening with a street drunk with rain
And desire is the collarbone calling her closer
And she is a leather bookmark that knows its place

And they still don't belong
But there is no one to tear them apart
So they are still
Just a pinch of the lips 
Pressed together
A twirl of hair between brown fingers
Two eyes, refuse to retreat
The quickest of kisses to the cheek 

Neither will admit what could have been
While one will wish for a second chance at courage 

No comments:

Post a Comment