|curious, magical, thoughtful, perhaps a bit audacious. :)|
Crimson lipped, oscillator
Feed me revelations on your tongue.
Moon eyed sphinx boy
Fierce and quiet as la lune.
French music fills my head when you smile , and every curve of your face makes you into a dream more than a man. Shadowy lover, almost always maybe.
Oh beautiful sphinx,
I have a million questions and all you give me are riddles. Stoic and serene, your gaze eclipses my thoughts and I melt into a puddle of worship at your feet. Music notes and exclamations ever climbing into your world and settling around your neck like a wreath of orchids and daffodils. Stone faced beauty of a man, saying that you miss me makes me feel like you're saying you love me. Honey tongued Adonis, man of my dreams, come wake me.
Drenched in golden sunlight
Glowing with the moon
I fall into caverns dark and deep
And I think of you.
Watching as your smile grows, my smiles growing too.
And when I rest my head tonight I know I'll dream of you.
A sparkling rain of fireflies and night of cobalt blue, that's how I'll see the skies at night when I dream of you.
And when phantom kisses fall upon me and your face returns to view, I'll feel you in my heart my love and I'll sing out a little tune.
And it'll all be just for you. :)
Would that I could taste your kiss tonight.
Slip my fingers through yours... Whisper riddles to you in the night, and feel your heart thumping into my back. Beating into me a rythym most sumptuous and sweet. Fill my head with fairytales, make me feel like you're Pan. It's hard not to feel like a god with you. Heavenly bodies, eclipsing each other slowly. We are magic.
I know that one day you'll find me in a vision and we'll touch palms and kiss like heavenly bodies making their humble revolutions. Once in a blue moon when the stars are aligned we'll meet again back to back palms touching underneath the stars.
-I miss you.
Screaming silences at you.
Wanting you to see me through a double sided mirror.
Pretending I'll be okay if you're truly gone.
Knowing your arms will never catch me.
Missing you like the sun in moments fleeting.
Tasting you in every thought i have.
Screaming colors and you're colorblind.
Ashes on my tongue,lipstick on my heart.
I dont know why you mattered so much.
Why you still matter even though i don't want to see you anymore.
I hate waiting for a gesture. Hoping you'll decide you've been a complete idiot and run back into my arms.
You're the prettiest picture I've ever painted and the deadliest flower I've ever tasted.
Hemlock forever on my tongue, in my words, on my lips.
I miss you more than anything else. It's strange mourning a living soul. a ghost haunting me and i know that if i spoke to you that you'd reply with white noises, but nothing would truly comfort me. I was a maiden laying flowers at your feet and you were narcissus. I could never have you. Oh, but i loved you completely. Now your stars are dimmed and your voice is hollow. I'd still kiss your ruby lips and swallow pangs in my heart to have you once more.
-Always just out of reach, my immortal songbird.
Sparkling citrus in sunlight.
Ceasing to exist.
Light as a feather.
Resting un the sand.
Buried treasure by twilight.
I dont know when we'll meet again, but i hope to see you in my dreams. Always as you were, and never as you are now. I don't recognize you darling. I feel I've been loving your shadow for far too long. Perhaps i always will.. but always as you were. Never as you are now. Under candlelight and sweet incense, we played our tunes and I'll always think of you.. just as you were back then, and never as you are now. And when my heart aches for you it will be a subtle pang and soon a gentle growl. And I'll think of you from time to time, looking at me still.. just always as you always were, and never as you are right now.
There's a small white room over looking the ocean and she sits in a glass bubble staring out and beneath her at the sandy beach and waves crashing against the rocks. Chopped black hair blunt at the shoulders, and bangs in a tribute to betty page. Moving her glass in a circle she rocks the ice back and forth making it dance in her bourbon. Her lips are cherry red and there's a hint of mischief in the edge of her smile. With her back to the ocean, in her bubble, she stares at the door directly in front of her, almost sending laser beams through it. Yellow kimono and a cross bow.
Much like a vine climbing over fences and up the sides of a house, you invade my thoughts. Stalking the perimeter of my mind, I never see you but I feel you utterly, panting and ranting trying to ensnare me with cobwebs flying off of your tongue. What am I to you? Are you even sure? I'm just the scent of something familiar or am I new and exciting? Why wouldn't you just say what you were thinking? Why does the truth taste like broken glass and dew drops in your mouth?
My hands always seeking never thinking. Thoughts ingite a cinder, quite the trigger.
My lashes are so heavy and inviting.
Casting looks, and sinking hooks and taking flight. Oh how my bones sing out a tune that pulls you nearer. A hollow drum ringing you won, could it be clearer? And your gaze reflecting back much like a dagger, and so we'll dance a sweet romance upon this ladder. And there's a man below us screaming we should falter. Our eyes are locked, we'll sway aloft hearts beating softer.
-a poem about love
💜 Aula Lucius
When it's dark you are the moon watching over.
Lighting my shadows.
Kissing my cheeks with subtle winds.
And in the morning you're the sun that's rising over.
Stealing calmly, rather strongly holding fast until you switch.
And I can't see you, but I feel you always resounding. A tender strumming in my heart, a simple tune. You're love is timeless, immortal,
everlasting. Every day you sing your tune until I'm through.
Softly kissing at her thoughts, swaying side to side while his whispers take the lead. Are we relevant now? Have we ever stopped being so? The record will end, and she'll flip him over and listen once more, swaying like it's the first time she's heard his breath or felt his simple thoughts. He stirs her, and for that he is endless. They'll just sway and sway, melting into eachother with every step. And by sunrise they'll be shadows humming into each others ears. Singing a sweet tune, warm and bright.
He's no Fredric March. Not a Cary Grant either. Maybe he's a shadow of something in between. A man lurking in the fog. Cinders on his cigarette pulling at my eyes more than anything else. I can't hear him when he's talking. It's like I'm watching my favorite scenes in slow motion, muted. Neither here nor there, but a lovely a vision at that. He might offer me a handkerchief on a cool night or tell me that he wants me in a forever sort of way.. And I could play it on repeat in my heart. Beating it into my head with kisses from a tramp. He's no Cary Grant or Fredric March. My man is ashes in the wind and the smoke creeping upward spiraling out of reach. and this unforgettable taste left o...
There she is, standing at the precipice of something either great or terrifying. Will she or won't she? A voice whispering in her ear tells her to twist the knob,while a shadow of a hand presses atop hers, cautioning against this twist of fate. Bite the apple or flutter your lashes? A clacking of heels, and a scene tinged with bourbon. Weightless,watching herself in a series of stills. She's Aphrodite, now she's a muse, now she's nothing but a fog filling heads with roses.
Hot breeze, sipping chilled beers on the back porch.
Play a game, see what he says, ask uncomfortable questions.
Something gnawing at you, screaming in your ears telling you that you want to but you honestly don't even know anymore .
Oh Pitter, patter, it doesn't matter.
It shouldn't be what you suppose it should. Sometimes it just is. Chilled beers, little silence, long glances and something brewing. Nothing doing, completely screwy.
In your pull I feel safe. Gravity keeps me in a loop. Always pushing, sinking my toes into the sand. A silent impossibly shrill motion, cutting into me like fine slices, shuffled and resolved to rest once more. Surrounded and yet I'll remain unsuffocated. Such a strange piling of circumstances ingested and exhaled.
And a prayer wheel
And a silver crescent moon
A rose quartz crystal lamp
A small statue of Isis
And a little jar of fire opals
Until he returns to me my eyes will wonder over his gifts and trinkets and I'll love him all the same, if only just a memory of how my beast through foggy nights and dreams unsettled renders me warm and safe in between shadows and songs.
Hanging above my head, much like a question. Something suitable to tell you, and settle your mind. Your claws sunk deeply into my back, and I feel the weight of you in every thought and breath I take. I don't need to know more, and I can't know less. Your frayed, chaotic, forever beautiful. And as the cracks spider out, you glow and burst into a million pieces inside of me. I miss you and I know that you'll never return, not the same as before anyways.
Like a pendulum he swings, and a gust of wind moves over me with reckless abandon. Deliberately chaotic. Inherently contentious.
He leaves me and yet I miss him all the same. Why does it feel like I'm stuck in this revolving door? I can't escape you. I could move on at this point, but I have spent so long wanting you, my rare flower.. several times I could almost taste the future between us, always bubbling ready to froth. I won't pretend to understand you and after all this time I'm used to your departure. I don't know what you are to me, but I need you. Even if it's just a memory I'll cling to, I need you..
-an ode to hemlock
Love is sort of like an endless spring to drink from while at the same time having this insatiable thirst. Love is the ember to which seeds all other desires. It's a pleasurable kind of mental torture. Like a vampire I sink my teeth into love knowing it nourishes my body and soul but it will not sustain me corporally but rather eternally. Love is feeling someone's shadow upon you and feeling them feel you with their spirit. Love is a lighthouse and we're all sailors searching for a beacon.
Little rabbit following with eyes shut closely, blinded.
A pale moon hangs over us still and with our hearts it's binded.
Wondering about the fox, the rabbit knows that he's still wanted.
But as he gazes at her, quietly his mind becomes quite haunted.
He sees her face, he sees her eyes, and then her lips, their voracious.
He hears a whisper lingering in the air, always something quite flirtatious.
Sweet Rabbit dancing in the moonlight, know I love you so completely, and when the sun hangs overhead you'll be in my heart repeating.
His nature stirs me. I watch him shift, and slip into different skins. It's strange, his face and tongue never change. Not a hint nor a tinge one way or the other, and he fancies himself all sorts of things I never actually see him as. What a world we live in, where everyone is living their own universe completely unaware of this beautiful chaos, save for chance encounters with rare beings of light showing you their different faces and facets. Wondering if you'll get the splendour or live in the shadows.
Follow your light. Mingle with strange.
Darkling, I listen. waiting for your tune to trickle down and colour me senseless. Slipping thru veils to see your different faces. I don't know if it's possible to possess you, and I wonder if that's even a good idea. It would feel like jarring a butterfly. I never know why I chase you. I suppose it's rather nice to have a beautiful butterfly to wander after when the winds change.
I don't know why I keep walking up to this same red door. Always lurking in my peripheral view, haunting me when I forget it's there. But I never forget. Biding my time, I wait. As if it mattered when I approached, all that truly matters is that I twist and pull the handle. And do you want to know something? I never find what I expect to be waiting. It's always a pale vision, a hologram. A light flickering signaling the end, or something like a stop sign but only in a gutteral feeling. I can't pretend that I dont know what's waiting for me. What lulls me in to opening you?
Your shadow is the least tangible part of yourself and yet, simultaneously the most . There's nothing truer than the reality of your shade casting waves and mirages of thoughts unhinged and unhindered. If it goes unnoticed is it quietly slumbering? Is a thing true because it is thought by several hundred brilliant minds? How real is something you can't touch but can feel it in it's entirety? Some people wear their souls like a cloak.
Colour me red.
Said It's all in the fingers darling.
It's not in your head.
It's all just a riddle, solve it.
My pulse is singing the most delightful tune, and only he can hear it.
His eyes whisper back at me in harmony. Beating into me a rythym most sumptuous and sweet.
Muddled in a symphony of thoughts, he rages on and she's cool as ice.