Poetry isn't dead...it's alive in me.
"Canopy Sky"
Crisp. Is that what
you called it? Crisp.
Cool. Shivering
this night. Bumps
rise from skin
I shake from firelight
sky. Acrylics seep
through canvas sky,
Hazel eyes ablaze, affixed
on bare thighs, surrounded
by arid grass. Dry
sticks set fire to the sky
and I grab warm flesh.
You squeeze my hand.
Firelight sky, black
canopy yellow dots
shine. Fingers
untangle and glide
through long, brown
tressels. Rest on tan
thighs, supple pillows. Bumps
leave the firelight, fade
smooth, caressing heat.
I look up and sigh.
Steam and sweat.
Cool and crisp sky.
ok...sorry i haven't been on in a while, but i've been emotionally and physically busy. so many things going on it's hard to concentrate on one thing at a time. I'm surprised i have any time to write anymore. Well, this is one of my latest ones. I really like it, i'm not sure why. I like the idea of the canopy, firelight night. It's over too soon.
well, enjoy, and i'll update soon i hope.
xoxo
Crisp. Is that what
you called it? Crisp.
Cool. Shivering
this night. Bumps
rise from skin
I shake from firelight
sky. Acrylics seep
through canvas sky,
Hazel eyes ablaze, affixed
on bare thighs, surrounded
by arid grass. Dry
sticks set fire to the sky
and I grab warm flesh.
You squeeze my hand.
Firelight sky, black
canopy yellow dots
shine. Fingers
untangle and glide
through long, brown
tressels. Rest on tan
thighs, supple pillows. Bumps
leave the firelight, fade
smooth, caressing heat.
I look up and sigh.
Steam and sweat.
Cool and crisp sky.
ok...sorry i haven't been on in a while, but i've been emotionally and physically busy. so many things going on it's hard to concentrate on one thing at a time. I'm surprised i have any time to write anymore. Well, this is one of my latest ones. I really like it, i'm not sure why. I like the idea of the canopy, firelight night. It's over too soon.
well, enjoy, and i'll update soon i hope.
xoxo