You only want pieces You want my breath against your neck As you thrust fire into my garden, You want my star crusted words That paint galaxies before you, You want me in the summer Skin soft, lips soft – passion. But it isn’t me you want at all You want a future with her Four kids and a dog Four walls and a roof Four years and no fights; Safety. And the thing is If you don’t want all of me You can have her. Enjoy your white walls, White fence, White neighborhood, And your gray life. And when you wake up, 3 am, Sweat drenched and salt streaked, I hope it’s me that bleeds from your pores, Eyes wide with desire, And passion, Dripping from your soul -kira p.
Posted in Poetry