Times takes about titans,

But short lived curtains

Curtails happiness;

Clothes that wouldn't dry,

Clouds and eyes that cry,

Wet lands that sigh,

Visible shivers that reply,

Trees and aspirations that lie,

fritters I fry,

With the tea I try,

Are you a random passerby?

Give me a heartfelt highfy(5),

No matter what I try

Your piece of mind; I couldn't buy

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Melancholic of the monsoon

Sluggish mornings,

Smell of fungus

in my slippery doorsteps,

Elongated bedtimes,

Slacking routines,

Hearing nothing ;but symphonies,

4 walls, headphones as my roomies,

Safeguarding books

And Reading them to cats 

To which they nods,

But silence alone growls.

Instant noodles,

And concurrent doodles;

Fills stomach and minds.

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I held you in the dark

Your face burrowed in my breast

Your tears made my body sweat and my fingers

Clung to your hair

A smile so small grew on my lips, as you

Thanked me. 

I expect nothing from you.

And I would probably do anything for you. 

And I knew from the moment we touched. 

11am, with the sun streaming in through the window.

You lay in my lap as...

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Passion is carefree, often buoyant.....breezy,
and is absolved perpetually of prohibitory rationality.

Being logged in to it for a little over eternity,
this is exactly how I have felt:
intense, steamy
...maybe a bit frenzied.

Passion is also a sudden, swift salvo.
On many a fleeting occasion, ergo;
I have come perilously close
to suggesting my maudlin ardor
and poetically propose
a...

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I could write

a thousand poems

inspired by your dimples

and the shadows they create

Poems that you 

could never

would never

should never

read

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Fuck it, I will let myself fall

I'll allow my stupid heart to get broken

Hopefully you're worth it

If you're not, then perhaps I deserve it.

You could be everything

You could be nothing

You could be the highest of highs or the most epic of lows

You could be my ebb, you could be my flow

You could be just one night

You could be the love of my life!

You could b...

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I thought that you cared,
that you cared more than a friend.
Now when I see you you're all over him,
now I'm letting the darkness in.

I remember when you were all over me,
I sang you lullabies to help you sleep.
You held my hand when I felt down,
held me in your arms to pull me up.

We were editing our little story,
you put your pen down and I start to worry.
You scrumbled your paper ...

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You pick up the trees and you wave them like fans

But her face continues to sweat.

You unravel the ground and you drain it of soil

But her stomach never rounds,

Her mouth remains open.

You bottle up the ocean till all water is extinct

Yet she continues to faint of thirst.

You take life from the earth,

You remove breath from the world

And she continues to perform still bi...

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I think that I was born on the moon.

But it was never ‘written in the stars’,

No,

I think that when I landed here on earth,

My voice was left behind

Because you can’t hear me.

When I talk,

You can’t hear me,

You look up to God for answers...

And you kiss me like your investigating the saliva for my heritage,

You go inside me like your searching for my identity,

Bec...

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When you lit that cigarette

The bones of me shuddered,

The blood in me halted.

What I wouldn’t do for you to light my flame with your lips....

Because I’ve had men tell me that my lipstick tastes of petrol,

That my mouth lights fires,

That my tongue causes explosions

And of course, that opening my legs is the best way to put a fire out.

But this fire begins at you...

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Hoarsely screaming down the barrelled street
night digests the wails I birth
this urgent drive pumps wildly
from crotch through chest to cranium
tears me clean in half
in flames for your name tattooed upon my lungs

Why do you not see me here
burning like this
why do you choose not to see me
burning for you like this

Barely able to draw breath between
the overwhelming thud of my hear...

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from now to then and back again

in time; to see

all promise of epiphany roll down between

the cracks that hold you in

such favoured light

your pictures beg to be inhaled

their snapped relief

and Dietrich air of futures trapped in avenues

of silvered shadows deftly

drawn of umber hued schönheit

© Paul Sands 2013

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