The Hour glass
Intoxicate me.
Pour down and stream through tightly.
Awkward exchanges, sly glances.
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Muted emotion.
Crossing in every direction.
Tick tick.
Extraction of the pros,
revelling in the cons.
Packed so tight.
Bursting at the seams, ready to unravel.
Piece by piece,
just fall into place
or another’s embrace.
Yet this puzzle is still humoured.
Unto turned on it’s head and it starts again.
Labyrinth of conviction
Your mind is like a maze,
lost in your thoughts.
Your eyes are like a fortress,
hiding emotions of all sorts.
Your lips are sought after,
forbidden and longed to touch.
Your skin an unknown wonder,
left undiscovered too much.
Your hands they pull in,
grasping her body close to you.
The magnetism drawing them together,
who knew.
You enchant with your gazes
and wrap her in your colloquy.
This cavity in her chest beats
desire, pain and hypocrisy.
Growing restless of unspoken emotion
and lack of confabulation.
It cannot be too long before
these ideas are but fabrication.