Silk

My pussy is sticky with dirty thoughts of you
My mind is slippery with puddles of what could be true
My soul is trippy, it possesses the glee and the gloom
And my heart is iffy on whether or not I should dive into you

In your pool of potions, I wish to nearly drown
I wouldn't mind if your waves held me down
And infiltrated my lungs, caused them to burn numb
Life without lust, so lush, would be no fun

I would love if we could just lie in the nude with liq and a blunt
Can we be free from inhibitions and bathe in the rush
Little thought of tomorrow, little care for labels
Because I feel like the princess in the fable

Somewhere, somehow in the crosses of our vibes
I feel entirely but not tiredly out of my mind
My obsessive thoughts of order, space, and time
Float away from me and are strangled by our vines

Although the difficulty of your cryptic ways leave my devotion pending
This time won't be wasted, the time I'm happily enjoying and spending
This could be our little piece of heaven, I'll be there at eleven
Pure smiles when I get a call from my Kevin

Your skin is soft like fine silk sheets
Your heart pulsations are strong and steady, how I wish to be
Quiet whimpers of comfort and drowsiness as you sleep
But the noise of my joy is blaring inside of me

Of slumber, I drift in and out, I don't know how
I got tangled up in you with ropes coated in glue
My hand on your hand, my grip on your grip
Red liquid races against the walls of veins and I can't help but want every inch

All of you in all of me
I close my eyes, I don't need to see
I just need to feel, I just need to heal
Faramones under the blanket, it is surreal

Like a mist spreading into my toes
And it dances and grinds deep into these bones
For an exquisite minute, I can't remember my woes
This mist is inhaled by my nose and through my moans, it shows

I melt into you, you melt into me like a bee soaking in honey
I've been felt you, you've been felt me, call me the mermaid, you act as the sea
Science says it's chemicals in our brains that make us feel close
But I feel these flowers bloom the most even in the treacherous parts of my soul

I hope I don't sound too mushy, too pushy, or repetitive
But I speak no bullshit when say you are a sedative
To the howls of demons that lurk in my head
My head is silent and at peace when it rests on that bed

This poem is about: 
Me

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