What's he talkin' 'bout?
Is it somethin' 'bout my smile?
Was it something 'bout my smell?
Well he's gotta pay attention.
'Cause he's lost in my direction.
He's got a pillow-side view.
Of my body.
Shapes like soft sand dunes.
It's a wonder how he wanders those expanses.
Said it's a wonder, not to conceal it.
So, I ask for surrender.
I've got his rain.
All I want is his thunder.
Turn these frozen yet dry waves into mud.
So, I ask for submission.
I've got his rain.
He just needs to get inside it.
This will suffice, yes?
Not fatal, yet something close to me.
I know he sees it.
Yet he conceals it.
So far gone.
Never would have thought.
Yet I need him to know, I won't do shit outta spite.
We both know who we want.
Yet we touch someone else.
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Sunrise or Sunset; The Garden of Hugs
PoetryHey all! This is just a collection of primarily free-verse poems I've created. Every poem is a different flower with a theme. To give the feeling of warmth and healing. With a sprinkling of finding resilience from within. That is the overall goal. E...
