(Catch-up) Poetry Monday

My being longs to hear you, darling,
fold origami out of words.
But in the meantime, I'll be smitten,
and you'll be flying with the birds.
I'll be content with your seraphic grin,
and fevered breath engraving braille into my skin.

My being longs to see you, darling,
I do not sleep, I'm Argus-eyed.
My being longs to smell you, darling,
inhale your memories that lied.
Just call me Icarus, my sweet,
my melted wings reveal defeat.

My being longs to touch you, darling,
leave eyelash trails upon your cheek.
I want your kiss of crushed velvet.
The sting of Eros left me weak.
I act coquettish, then act proudly,
but I'm concerned you laugh too loudly.

My being longs to taste you, darling.
You went down smooth, no sugar needed.
It felt like cherries, guilt and neon.
I was your Troy and conquest, you've succeeded. 
At least you weren't cruel, despite my plea,
and took it all at once, oh lucky lucky me.

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