Saturday, February 26, 2011

Skin

We've got this habit of writing memories on walls
With our skin.
We've got this way about us,
You've got this way with me when you're in
and I'm out of my mind.

In those moments my worries go unthought of,
So my mouth can't speak complaints.
Your eyes tell my eyes it is okay, to close.
Your lips tell my lips parted lips should voice pleasure and not woes.
Your fingertips tell me I'm beautiful and I'm dirty,
And I'm everything and the only thing I feel in those moments.

This is the only place the world can't come to find me.