January 16, 2010 by Erica. Overlooking the fields of opportunities. One of them includes you. Located on the highest tower. Standing on a balcony,. Waiting for a sign,. Not wanting to move into action. That act as closed gates. That continually repeat in my head. But desires to move forward,. Whether it be intimacy or amity.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply. You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Twitter account. You are commenting using your Facebook account. You are commenting using your Google account. Notify me of new comments via email.

I called out to you,. My forever shooting star,. To save a wish for me. It is practically worn out now. My bedpost, my fingernail,. This brick of a thing.

She is the sweetest of tastes. On the tip of your tongue,. On the edge of your teeth,. On the rim of your lips. She is the ambrosia of scents. In the skin of your pillow,. In the heaps of your clothes,. She is the softest of touches. Between the grip of your fingers,. Between the cross of your legs,. Between the gasps and moans. She is, she certainly is. You have stirred her into poison,.