Divergent, Veronica Roth.

‘I have something to tell you.’ He says

I run my fingers along the tendons along his hand and look back at him.

‘I might be in love with you’ he smiles a little. ‘I’m waiting until I’m sure to tell you, though.’

‘That’s sensible of you.’ I say, smiling too. ‘We should find some paper so we can make a list or a chart or something.’

I feel his laughter against my side, his nose sliding along my jaw, his lips pressing behind my ear.

‘Maybe I’m already sure.’ he says, ‘and I just don’t want to frighten you.’

I laugh a little. ‘Then you should know better.’

‘Fine.’ he says. ‘Then I love you.’

Divergent, Veronica Roth.

It’s only when I read, when I lose myself in a page of words, in another world, a creation of the imagination, that I realise what a complete sucker for love I really am. No story is complete with out love, true love, real inspired love.

Links of crystalised life.

An elaborate spectacle of tinted rose,
climbing the vines where wisdom grows.
light emitting particals swimming in sync,
A carbon copy of the thoughts i think.
And darkness swarms,
Threatening storms,
as the world implodes
lost in a valley of depth,
A distant echo of tears once wept,
Risks to take,
to ensure escape.
Blank walls and iron barred views,
Ancient doors with a jester muse.
Diamond chains of self destruction,
The climbing blocks of realisation.
And as the darkness cascades down,
It’s fight
or drown.

Dreams of sleep.

The radio is playing in the background,
churning out endless songs of lost love and betrayal.

My fingers reach across the great abyss between us as we lay naked on crumpled white sheets of passion.

I watch you as you sleep, alone in the aftermath of a lovers meet. Your hand reaching emptily out to me.

My fingers graze across yours and my heart flutters as the darkness swallows my sight.

A mechanical clock ticks and tocks, an incessant reminder of the ever changing tides of time, this ever changing life.

I lay awake, alone as another song of heart break cackles through the night. I slip my fingers, between yours and lower my head.

The gap is gone as you pull my body in tight, your eyes open briefly having never truly closed.

No words to mortalise the deep ache of fear, just fingers intertwined, and bodies touching near.

I close my eyes and sleep, head upon your chest, arms holding me free, till finally it subsides, my urge to run and flee.

A tender kiss of my lips.

Kiss me,
Kiss my flushed pink lips,
Part them with your tongue.
Kiss me,
Feel me harden against your tender tongue,
Caress me with your
Your tongue,
Your lips…your fingers.
Run your tongue
Along the opening of my lips,
Push it in further and faster and harder,
Enjoy me, taste me.
Lick my lips,
Slip in your finger,
Slip in two,
Rub me gently
suck me with passion.
Look at me, look at my lips,
The way they open,
The soft pink skin,
The way they glisten.
Watch as they part,
Watch as you touch
Watch as they bloom.
Kiss me,
Kiss my lips.

The veil of hope.

Veil of the widowed keep,
show me all that I do seek,
Light the way on this hallowed eve,
for this is what I truly need.
Black veil of the other side,
beyond, beneath, where I do hide,
Chains broken with a sharpened knife,
To protect it all, to protect whats mine.
Pumping heart of bleeding loss,
Dreams of lives now covered with moss,
Forgotten, tangled webs at cost,
Warmth replaced with a tangent frost.
Black veil of the widowed keep,
Show to me what I do seek,
when eyes are closed and lost in sleep,
In the great forest, so very deep,
Where alone with the breeze,
My heart does weep,
Black veil of the shadows keep,
show me please,
What I do seek.