id like to speak to you how’d i like- when id like and not be afraid of the terrible things that sometimes await that kind of boldness- the lynch mobs, baptized tongues and forked speak. There are fields that i go to sometimes im my mind. i call them forever. id like to go there with you and at least hold your hand.
id like to hold you when i need to. I don’t mean to be too much. After all, this ain’t meant to push a love on you that you don’t want. Its more about us hearing and being heard. And not caught between the “could be’s” and thousands of angry eyes ready to set fire to what we got. I want to be able to want you more openly.
Id like to fuck, once, without the aid of intoxication. sodomy need not be secretive neither be love.
And id like to show you where I groove. And not be up in arguments about the way we look because they only matter in this world and the universe of our making is something beyond this entrapment.
id like us free to feel.
you like me submissive
like some bitch- open for use
to be bred and pumped
full of your cum and misery.
touching is for your own pleasure,
rights and permissions.
because i ,like the boys before me,
will suffer you, for now.
In our longing for shinning armor,
horse backs, candle light, dope dick,
and lips wet with emotion
there you stood- erect
I am growing tired of once a month fucks,
forced embraces and half held “hi’s” preluding
“lemme see that ass”, “suck me”, “you like this dick?” and “roll over”
You like me submissive
because i am for you.
like i am for you.
that my heart after so long,
can still pull out the same
that we still can find each other resting in the shells we left.
A hint of joy
and sunlight powerful enough to
eclipse the nasty arguments, un-returned calls and side eyes.
Its funny that the awkwardness has stayed
and that you can still be found near the center of me
and that maybe leaving you was a little incorrect
and that makes me hurt for you more
and… I miss you friend.