Midnight Skin

Midnight Skin

Midnight Skin

~

Midnight stuck to your skin-

I remember the softness of kisses that lasted

to the taste on my tongue which contrasted

with the taste on your breasts of perfume,

like a dream I remember our moment a such

when at times if alone I can still feel the touch

of midnight on your skin,

and I’m doomed-

H.O

“Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche

“See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

O, that I were a glove upon that hand

That I might touch that cheek!”

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

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Still

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Still

~

If blind I was I still could see

your image burnt in places

that haunts me every night,

your face becomes the sight

of dreams my love yet chases

your smile perfectly bright

if blind I was I still could see.

~

If deaf I was I still could hear

your voice so deep within

a melody that’ll never die

in bed my sweetest lullaby

to take my heart into a spin

a sound no silence could defy

If deaf I was I still could hear

~

If mute I was I still could say

within my dreams your name

to give it wings and fly so far

the silent sound around a star

flying above a burning flame

your name inside my heart

If mute I was I still could say.

H.O

Thirst

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Thirst

~

Is it wasted love with no direction doomed

to cease the beat of aging hearts?

Neurons flooded with kisses left in memories

broken through years with many parts

scattered all around-

~

And years of being alone I found

the need to touch and hold

remains the same as we get old,

a lonely art of dreaming up

such moments past-

~

If in my heart a need to love could last

to beat along another one ‘til then

when life no longer left

to feed a dying breath,

at last is worth to love again!

H.O

“Pressing hard against her mouth

rainfall of kisses after long drouth,

her thighs flaming with desire

I must burn in everlasting fire”

I Never Learned

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I Never Learned

~

I never learned to love

the way you wish I loved you

like flowers kissed by morning dew

to kiss the same I never knew,

like roaring waves caressing sand

I never learned to hold your hand

the way you wish I held you-

And like the sun so hot and bright

to keep you warm through the night

I never learned to do it right

the way you wish I kept you-

H.O

Chasing Stars

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Chasing Stars

~

If courage had to chase the stars

the ones that shoot across the skies

so fast that eager lovers eyes

will miss to wish upon once more-

If I could have as did before

when dreamers lands I traveled

I could then wish for you to see

how deep inside a look unraveled

my weaken dreams for evermore-

But gaining courage it’s often hard

no fairy tales of shinning knights

to conquest lands or touch a heart,

then once alone the cowards way

to wish upon in lonely nights

across the sky and so far away

for you to be my shooting star-

H.O

Wasted Passion

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……..

Wasted Passion

~

Such a waste this passion swimming underneath

like falling trees with no one to hear

or roaring waves of a lonely beach

with no footprints to wash away,

no hearts to steal-

And words alone will soon decay

to leave remnants of long gone days

like muddy prints on an empty house

my passion stays

deep underneath, sometimes aroused

by passing flings that bring no joy-

Such a waste this passion burning underneath

with no one to tend a dying fire

and revive the flame,

like stone cold tomb without a name

my passion lies right underneath

a dying breath of gone desires

Such a waste this passion sleeping underneath-

H.O

 

“What Reason weaves, by Passion is undone.”

― Alexander Pope

Reminisce

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Reminisce

~

I followed a path of skin many times,

sweat drops like rain soaking desires buried deep

within those places where fantasies come alive.

And in my journey across her nakedness my need

becomes intolerable, rushing across to arrive

scattered all over eager to possess her body,

never the same skin, never the same story

but always the same fire-

H.O

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”

― Federico García Lorca