I have you in my eye's pathway, candy to my sight, sending sensitive throbs to my nerves. Yes, I indulged to no satiation, but it feels good, nevertheless. What is the eye's orgasm? I wonder this as I'm filled with deep exhilaration from your silhouette alone. I digress, as I would rather keep it PG-13 rated...
I regress, as I haven't recovered from this obsessive lust that has permeated throughout every faucet of my body. Licking my lips as I gaze in amazement at every curvature, every thick portion that completes YOU. A glass of wine couldn't relax these vibes, yet it exacerbates it. It befuddles me how your soul matches your shape, both a beautiful reflection of God's love and artistry. I sit in my miserable lust, not being able to fulfill the cup that is half-empty that I drank from many nights prior. As the moon sets, all I can do is pray that we finally physically meet to alleviate your mystery that I sit with as I ponder by this windowsill....
About the Creator
Eliman Jeng
Father, poet. Much more than the keys can type.
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Deep darkness
I inhaled reality and exhaled a temporary mental vacation, dissecting stress in forms of foreign swaying trees that cooled my skin to the touch on humidity-filled days. This deep darkness that has consumed me lately has taken me out of touch with my physical. Almost remote, heading towards the Twilight Zone. Everything seemed nonsensical. The ominous clouds conveyed omniscient whispers on the path I stood. This darkness swayed my feet like I was hanging on for dear life on a human-sized pendulum. Off balance, dark thoughts pressed into me, revealing my pessimism. Why me?? My mind would obliterate all optimism, dispelling them into my mental wastebasket. A shell of myself, I would await the precipitation to no avail. When it abruptly occurs, I stand frozen, between rain drops, not wet at all. My skin doesn't recall the feeling of being drenched because this darkness has kept me shrouded in its hideous wings of shelter. The warm rays of sunlight are taken for granted as I arise each day with more deep darkness awaking my spirit with an internal alarm clock. When will it end? I couldn't answer this question as I search aimlessly for the light switch.... or the light at the end of the tunnel.
By Eliman Jeng2 years ago in Poets
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