Drunk in Love
I want a love where we spend late mornings
in bed with legs entangled like banyan roots.
The sheets are no different than we:
messy, disheveled, and bare.
Flushed faces stare down at books
while eager hands flip pages,
our bellies starving for words
that transcend our meager existence.
I long for someone to starve my insecurities
and quench my soul.
A love full of vulnerability,
that burns voraciously, yet stands invariable.
A most quixotic and otherworldly love, indeed.
For now, I find this intoxicating love deep within my bones,
until the day one might step out of the shadows
for me to deem them worthy of such blissful moments.
YOU ARE READING
Parchment and Perfume
PoetryThis draft represents the inner workings of my mind, among other things. All of my poems and prose will be cataloged here and available for feedback. Pieces will constantly be added or removed to fit the guidelines for any poetry submissions I have...
