dewy at the center, soft to the touch, (my pink petals taste the sweetest) yet you will never truly have enough.
dewy at the center
Tag: poem
i crave a love so divine,
i crave a love so divine that when we part, the clouds will weep.
prosaic:
prosaic: a world lacking creativity, a word absent of the rhythmic hymn of time.
Standing Ovation
A song plays in my heart, Absent to the ears around me. The melody binds my anxieties And strips away all reason. Slick bed sheets and dimmed lights, my eyes roll back and my toes curl As you trace my curves with your lips. Hands tangled in my hair, I look up as we [...]
Rancid and candid even in death,
Rancid and candid even in death, fate pushed me in the righteous path– impatient to steal my breath. the rush of wings clouded my mind as I trained my receptors front and center: disastrous desire! a faint whistle tickles my neck, as the fatal quake of rigor mortis, rips away sensibility and dignity. A [...]
Mecca-Amirah Jackson 