you make me blush
at a smile from you
and after your touch

i know what junkies go through
wanting to be high
wanting to be high

and i
know it is not natural for my skin to ache
when your chest
does not flatten my breasts

but im not concerned with
whether or not my mind is bent

i just want another hit
i just want another hit
i want to be

blunted

on your love
to breathe your kisses on my skin in
and love that pain which results
when

your hairs aren’t mingling with mine.
your eyes lock us in between time.
you get me lost in your rhythm and rhyme

and i

flush
blush
rush to your
touch.

and i
lust
til i
bust

oh, damn
i wanna
fuck.

but no go
cuz you’re 2 hours away.

and so i will call
and ain’t got shit to say.

just i want to get high
on knowing you’re there
and your voice makes me have to wring out
my underwear.

though you’ve said nothing sexual
just wanted to ask
how my day was and how i plan to get past
these days
these nights

without you near

so i
cry
sigh
bloodshot are
my eyes

but i
stay strong
as i long
but
mmm-damn
i want to die.

but i’ll keep it togehter
until that day whenever
i see you again
my lover
my friend
and as i wait for your presence
to beam me up

i will think of your love
and
i
will
Blush.

* the audio version never follows the written exactly. Also, I recorded it in phone quality on purpose- it’s supposed to sound like a voicemail message.

i.

i write life on thin skin looking within for words that will make me less sensitive to the burn of existence.

i look for love inside and outside and up and down and sometimes i find it in the first place i looked and sometimes i find that what i was looking for is an illusion i cannot touch and in my confusion i trip over lust and fall into love.

sprained my ankle once and couldn’t get away from the eyes i erected in my mind and the free flow that i found in his words. his words reached out to my inner secrets brushed up against the innocence i was hiding even from myself.

his words chased me inside myself and i found out i was running from love into misery before he came.
his words would not let me escape from reality.

ii.

it’s all in the details baby girl, he said.

lay down. yeah. right there. no, no just lay there. i want to see you. i like to see your body waiting for me. put your arms down love. yeah. like that. just wait for me. i’m right here, no need to reach for me. i just

….want to see you.

looking at your toes, and this new polish pedicure fetish you developed to keep the attention of my mouth. let me…taste them… do you really like this better than… mmmmm. you got some big feet girl. sexy lil anklet…

to go with those strong calves, is it from driving a stick?

and them big thighs… thank god for Queens. not supersized or skinnified and i love your curves and the way your stomach sticks out despite all that sitting up you do.

keep jogging if you want to but don’t lose those hips or those ripe, ripe melons swinging like forbidden fruit before me… is that why you like my big hands, because i can hold a D-cup?

don’t cover your eyes…

Sweetie, why you getting all shy?

iii.

details. in the details. the way he looks at me with those eyes, 161 eyelashes on the end of the left eyelid. i counted once, have looked in his eyes that long every day we are together, long enough to count the eyelashes on the end of the left eyelid.

he breathes in such lovely spirals, i can see it when it’s cold and i just want to be in his air, hope always for that moment before the kiss where i will be wondering how long he’s going to let my hunger burn.

details. in the De-Tails. the details of the pores of the skin on his face.

that is the face i love, the face that bathes me in moonbeam streams of honesty. he loves so many places in me, inside me, all the things i think are flaws, he finds adorable….

details.
details of a long longing because i had gone almost 39 hours without his voice. i counted. yes, i counted.

details.
details of a sneaky memory telling my body what i want to forget until i see him again.

that i want him, that i desire his touch on my shoulder or my stomach or my knee or my eyes… just to have him caress me with his eyes…

details.
details of a lover’s flesh pressed against the best organ i have, skin, skin with nerve endings to tell me his love is real and on top of me and moving into me, and this memory bites me hard because he is not here and i only have my hands to comfort me, hands that are deft to speed me to the beginning of the end again and put me back at the end of the beginning, the end of the yearning that comes before the need to be touched, but not by myself, only a sorry sorry substitute even when it’s electronic his worst performance is the emancipation of my loneliness and some of my life’s best because it’s so stained with the love that is overcoming us both on his face and in my eyes.

details. like at the start of an orgasm, the loudest lover i have ever had. and it charges me so to hear him sing the imminence of his physical inner madness that will explode inside me vibrating me from inside the canal of my love and drips down into my thighs and rides my blood into the rest of my body.

details.

details.
details……

well i admit…
i was half the degree of that yesterday
i fell into lamentation over the lack of capacity to touch you
it does hurt me at times though i dont say so in my rhymes…
but this way, i learned yesterday,
is more of how i need you
any two can touch
but i dont want us to ever just….

well you know the word
dont want to taint my ode to your turnabout of me
with curse words
lets just for now say erupt…
but back to you and me …

i need you more in this way is what i was saying
before i robbed lines from you
as i do sometimes because you know more of what i want to say

when we touch… i want us to play

i want the sun to shine in jealousy
over the light i pour into you with parted lips

i want the moon to brighten in envy
at the perfect braid of our two bodies in bliss
i want the stars to blink morse code of SOS
at the urgency of our stroke
i want the very sky to look away
from the passion
when we sit chest to chest
naked heart to naked heart
and invoke
creation
to look upon us and marvel…

i want a new word manifested to describe
what we do to each other as lovers…

but all of those are wants…
what i need from you is what you already give me
and i learned that from my reflection
as i turned full circle…

how i dream of you
how i dream of delivering you into my drifting dedication.
how i dream of deepening my drive towards a destiny

where you shine as a single star in a private sky
and i can’t understand
why
why
why

dear delano…

doubtlessly you’ve seduced me
doubly
once drawing with your words and verbs
twice dazed with your deliverance of distracting dances

dare i drink down these decadant ideas?
where you split my dimunitive thoughts of love into
factions that war which each other
all demanding undivided attention
to twin with my detailed fantasies
and give birth to legions of desire?
dare i

dear delano?

how i desire you
how i desire to please you
how i desire to endlessly caress every corner of your soul

why dont you know
the extent to which you unravel my royal mask
exposing my heart’s virginity?
and i just want to bring you into my present tense
and i stay up nights riddling….
how
how
how

dear delano?

and when will our spirits tango in step to the universal tune
of pore creating friction enough to make perspiration bead
into a slightly salty spice to tease the palate
for the subsequent bodily emanations
which twitch betwixt
the feast of twinned tongues flipped similiarly on necks ears backs shoulders legs ankles fingers elbows

i only await
being dear to you
before i proceed,

dear
delano…