#newp.s

words are meaningless now

a bulletless gun

you and i we speak a different language

unknown to others

spoken by the tongues of none.

5th september, 2018 // sh

your fingers

don’t have to mark every mile of my skin, to call me yours.

my lips

don’t have to taste every inch of your being, to call you mine.

/

and yet,

i wouldn’t want to see blueberry nectar dripping from anybody else’s mouth but yours.

wouldn’t want to close my eyes and jump off of anybody else’s fingertips.

/

you know,

someone once told me that i taste better than his last. “i“ he said, “have never liked the taste of blueberries, but yours has a familiar sting”

/

which made me think...

who was your last? what does she taste like?

do you still have blueberry dripping from your nectar mouth? does she?

/

darling,

what does it feel like to rest in the light of her temples? or feel her chest pressing against yours?

darling... can i still call you that?

/

you see..

i’ve never liked the taste of blueberries either.

but i still got accustomed to your sting.

i, with all my blandness and love for mysteries.

i, the physical form of contained lust for life and adventure.

i, boiling water oh so ready to overflow, would get a chance.

a real chance at danger.