THINKING OUT LOUD.

When time is no longer of consequence…when I’m old.. Bald..bent and grey
When age dances with me…moving to the tunes of a glorious sunset..
So that my fingers are broken and my pen has succumbed to the aridity of impotence. And I am no longer able to write to you how you have been the highlight of this life
What then will you tell the world.. About who I was to you.. ?

©Poetry_Post

Treyv 2018.

a.s

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I Burn

My body burns for your touch.
Burns for your lips against mine,
For your hot breath against my neck,
Your tender fingers caressing my waist.

My body burns for your eyes.
Burns for your chest grazing mine,
For your whispers against my ear,
Your sweet smell.

My body burns for the passion,
Burns for the spark when you entwine your fingers with mine,
For your smile between kisses,
Your heart that I thought you had.

My body burns for you.

I burn because of you.

a.s

Touch.

When you tenderly fixed your eyes at me,
I felt nice shiver on my whole body.
Those eyes, I’ll never forget their stare so smart,
it has graven deeply, deeply in my heart.

I’m sworn by your love.
I can think already of nothing,
nothing else but you and your stare, how
it still makes me so sweetly freezing.
However, there’s nothing strange. It’s right –
you break my heart to pieces tonight.

When you smiled at me, it was calculated.
I still hear the laugh, it is well-favoured.
You’ve done it only for you to get me,
but I want it forever sounds in me.

I’m sworn by your love.
I can think already of nothing,
nothing else but you, your tender laugh.
Everyone knows that and I think
if you know too the occurrences
and that you break my heart to pieces.

a.s

When A Girl Is Pretty.

img-20180519-wa0000202107031.jpgWhen a girl is pretty and she knows

you’ll know it that she knows.

It’s in her feet
the way she carries her feet
as if they’re made of rare porcelain.

It’s in her eyes
that aware look in her eyes
sultry, beckoning, yet saying
‘stand at bay’.

It’s in her neck
the slight upward tilt of her neck
accompanied by that pout
delicately embossed
into a glossy corner of her lips.

It’s in her fingers
soft fingers no more counting
how much she hears it daily.

So they pat slowly through her hair
as she sashays down the street
pretending not to notice
the whole street is watching.

But we know, we really know
nobody walks like that
except they also know
the whole street is watching.

a. s

The Moon and the Sea

If there is something that the sea,
Has taught to me,
It is the fact
That one can be loved from a distance,
Just as the sea loves the moon,
And shows off for her just as soon
As she peaks her silver head,
Over the mountain stead,
Though she is millions of miles away,
His love for her never falters or sways,
He simply reaches for her with his waves,
Faithfully following her trails.

And just as the sea can love the moon,
Who is so far away,
I, too, can love you,
Just the same,
Because although I can’t love you,
The way I want to,
Loving you from afar,
Is better than not loving you at all.

FIERCE.

If I could love but one thing about you,
What would it be? Contrary to today’s myth,
I would not say “looks” which although
Important, would rank no higher than number
Ten on my list.

Before that, numbers
Six through nine would be filled with things like,
Your sensitivity, your intelligence,
Your compatibility and its corollary,
Attraction – that immutable force drawing
Me to you like blood to a beating heart,
Flowing through my veins with the full flush
Of desire and amour.

Numbers five, four and three would be shared
Equally by your personality – how
You reveal yourself to your world with all
Those distinctive characteristics that make you
You, your generosity of spirit and your
Devotion to life from all its insipid, boring
Details through all its manifestations as you move
Through time and space on your singular orbit
Giving incessantly and unfailingly
Of you. No, not even this would be enough.
For transcending them all like any true
Hierarchy is the complex creation
Whose sum is you – the quintessential
Embodiment of being
For whom life is conceived as a series
Of precious moments, each one as pure
As the next and each an open door to any
Who would share in the creation of its memory.

WHEN YOU ARE GAY

When you’re gay
dating is just the same
as if you were straight.

Except,
instead of holding hands,
you walk behind him
to avoid being harassed.

Except,
instead of gazing deeply into his eyes,
you make sure no stranger is staring
when you go in for a kiss.

Except,
instead of enjoying the bliss
of a loving embrace,
you protect yourselves
from the man with bulging eyes
who repeatedly shouts
at the top of his lungs:
“The bible says,
one man and one woman,
one man and one woman!”

Then, you spend the rest
of your evening
calming down your date
who no longer feels safe
being held in your arms.