Wild things

Resonating and reverberating in my head long after the climax,

my ears ring your name;

Echoes discuss the nature of this attraction using body language,

while pillow talks of all those wild things,

when you were saying all the right things,

and I was sailing into deeper waters

while you asked me about

my wild thoughts,

the wind blew you closer to me while it sang a song for us, the moons gravity washed away my inhibited notions with the tide and I felt free to swim in your thoughts, for the first time,

I knew I wouldn’t drown in them,

but rather I would drink from your

divine chalice and quench my stagnant imagination with your essence.

Taking in every drop of you while hammering precious stones in your crown.

Respecting this woman’s grace

and admiring her being.

The way you should be admired,

molecule by molecule.

Similar to the way she loves,

Entirely.

Mind, body and soul set free like ghosts, circling you in the night with white sheets and lonely howls. Calming caresses in the quiet corners of my mind call forth innate comfort and I lay drenched in your atmosphere while still suspended in your headspace, discovering worlds and watching galaxies expire before me as you delve into your letterbox of sorrow and read me each tale of a love gone bad.

Each one of your dreams,

your nightmares.

The wild things that seem so sentimental to you only, the little nostalgias of pain.

A genuine longing for someone you love to break your heart,

for fear of actually falling head over heels and walking on the clouds,

so you knot a noose from your heartstrings and jump off the moon.

Forever a beautiful, but lonely constellation. So bright, so brilliant;

So, so far away.

Daydreaming and nocturnaly thinking out loud while washing down tension with creativity and intentional outbursts

of sexual thoughts surrounding

platonic encounters,

wild things.

Small sparks, fanned into flames and fueled by similarities of the souls.

Two poetic souls acting out a drama,

unaware of the foreboding tragedy.

Too busy swimming in each other’s embrace to realize this ballet ends with sore feet and a long walk back to reality.