Tired, but never too tired to reach out, to seek a touch, to cross air in search of the tiniest movement. Tired perhaps of everything that stands in between the tips of my fingers and you, the space between skin and skin, the brush of surface, of fingerprint on goosebump.
Tired of waiting for the space between my hand and your skin, your essence, to be removed, tired of waiting to feel your pulse, where my fingers and your heat meet and mingle, where grasp begets groan and pinch seduces and waits for a moan, where fingers, my fingers hold you on the edge, the ledge before falling until you do and I start over again.

Tired but never tired of showing you exactly how this is done, my way.
Tired perhaps, but never tired of touching you.

anonymous asked:

What are some of your favorite poetry blogs?

Ironically enough, I follow more image blogs than anything else, because I prefer to get my inspiration from there… and when it comes to poetry, I base it more on individual pieces that may catch my eye rather than whole blogs overall. But here are some I feel are noteworthy which come to mind… some of them are more quotes than poetry, and a lot of them reblog other works as well, but I have seen some good stuff come out of these blogs lately.












Your poetry

Your poetry moves like fingers against my skin. 

Light, with intent, reminding me that I’m not alone,

I swear, it’s like you’re sitting here beside me. 

                                               I look up, 


                   it’s only the taste of the syllables

left on my tongue

instead of lips.