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Gutted
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the missing Guttural groans seep,
releasing themselves from me
I fucking ache for you!
the missing returns a thousand times faster than it leaves
grabbing nothing but air and fantasy
we used to paint the skies in colours you and I
now the strokes are of no substance
tracings of heat dissipating
like my hope to catch our meaning
its a guttural instinct
a fidelity that knows no carnality,
only the faintest hope of it
Another groan escapes me
Oh fuck I miss you!
like the desserts miss the rain,
I fucking need you!
Worse than the Poet needs the pain.
revised this poem was
revised this poem was thinking of b all the way through it and his sage advice... :) hugss B!
Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS
"Well, it's love, but not as we know it."
Ssmoothie!! I love this.
Ssmoothie!! I love this.
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desert rain and poet pain - nice - Lady A
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