The Need Part II.

I see your dark form approaching, sheilded from the wind and cold of this December evening.
There's a wall between us, forced conversation, something that should scream "stay away."
The heaviness in the air between us tastes like me and you. It tastes like our scent.
Our sweat. Something missed. Something needed.
The conversation we're having, the tension in voices barely maskes the want to overcome feelings pulsating through us.
You're pressing firmly against the seam of your jeans. My thighs begin to grow warm and wet.
Chest heaving, bodies flushing, the desire we're barely constricting...only social decorum keeps us from having each other in the street.
No one will be watching us...

The Need Part I.

It's nights like these where I try to break out of my body.
I'm venturing, an animal that prowls under the soaking orange sky.
Shivers one through me. Cold. Anticipatory.
I've been begging for you, mind and body, this whole evening. The chemical fuels my desire; I feel my blood desending only to thrive in a place that throbs like my heart.
Inviting, my body prepares for your arrival, before you yourself even arrive.
My legs are pumping, back and forth. That same rhythmic motion to be reenacted.
I don't know what crevice of campus we'll find tonight, where our desires will converge. Against a wall, hopefully. I'd love to feel the harsh tears bound to happen on my back.

I'll Let You Ring My Neck.

I can't get you out of my heart.

Abrupt.

This silver charmless chain
I'm twisting around my fingers
like a beadless rosery.
Which is ironic,
because it seems I don't have a prayer.
It's an accusation I haven't made yet.
Something that eats away,
necrotizing the part of my brain
that has hope in our future.
I'm wearing spots into the base of my nails.
It's a sweet sting on either hand...
I can sigh.
Note the match of silver on my fingers,
and remember you want to be with her.

Don't let the black spot fade
Don't let me see his eyes.
I'm sick of crying these drunk tears,
don't make me comprimise.
I'm sick of laying in our bed
arguing ovet non-moot facts
Over why you want to leave,
When cheap vodka loosens your tact.

Wine Tasting

It's the pre-dawn slumber hour
We'll celebrate my immediate exhaustion
with twin trails of your champagne fingers.
Leaving warm and bubbly pathways underneath the skin of my bare back.
Cheers to us, our privilage.
Our silver knots and all.
I squint my eyes to face you
You blink back at me.
My eyes inhabit a red wine in the dark.
They'll be what steals your gold
and your bubbling heat.
They'll bring us to our drunken stupor
wherein truth
like that heat which spread on my back
is spilled from glass

Observe

Love under light,
a barebulbed light.
Harsh and revealing,
or shadowed in depth.
The shadow may last
longer than the feeeling.