Been there, done that?
So you think you’ve got it figured out?
Go on, turn my pages
undress me with your wit
that’s not embodied in shallow facts
but in details of the mind that
move my core to latch onto your brain
like a leech sucking on your every neuron
making me moan at the sexiness
of its boldness and intelligence
Blow me away…
You’ve been around …
You’ve got it figured out.. don’t you?
Show me that silence between 2 is fine
don’t fill it with empty breaths that only
dilute the golden air
that rests as a hammock between my mouth and yours
for the golden rays
on a Sunday morning to carry
all our exhaustion in cold crisp breaths
that joust with the coffee steam between our palms
Be quiet …
You know what you’re doing
Still think so?
Turn me on, challenge me
let my fire burn
then turn it off again
repeat, speak, burn, water down
repeat, argue, ignite me, turn me off,
water down my feisty spirit
with answers that form tiny sweat bubbles
on my neck and trickle down my chest
seducing me to think more, want more
but not all
Seduce me …
Not all are created equal,
still think you’ve got it?
I may not be right, but I may not be wrong
balance my instability
society has broken me in places
I did not know could ..
tell me the harsh truth
break the bricks off of my heart
crack my ribs
for the birds in my ribcage
learned to settle once…. ONCE..
and then tasted the sweet juices of liberty
and they have been addicted ever since
Writers are crazy, but I understand you…
I have it in the bag.. you say
Tell me what you know about them
for I still am learning
let your tongue kiss me with
poetry, philosophy, any form of art
pull my hair back
watch as my eyes dilate
when I read, listen, hear, and see it happen
crazy because I write
Crazy because YOU don’t understand?
Cup my face with sweaty hands,
feel as my heart beat accelerates at
the sound of dark poetry, sultry prose
single words, said by your voice
my body submits, guards down
skin on skin, mind to mind, eye to eye
and you still tell me:
writers are crazy… but I get you..
and I still
look at you and ask,
so you think
you still got it
Thierry Mugler – c. 1995 – Photo by Helmut Newton