Poetry Monday

Ignorance is bliss;
let me drink from the Lethe.
Lie to me tonight.

(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.

Poetry Monday

Sitting behind you, all I notice is
the outline of your eyelashes (when you turn your head);

and I find myself blinking
when you do

for us to have something,

(anything)

in common.

Poetry Monday

This is the first in a series of weekly poetry posts. Hopefully it will force me to be a bit more creative and revisit my love for creative writing which doesn't show it's face as often now as I wish. 

Saccharine boy slipped
himself into my cup of

coffee. Sugar shock.