nostalgia-soaked velvet skin,
drenched in the rain’s graying melodies,
cradle the wind’s dulcet lyrics,
delicate in dips and depressions.
dripping from half-closed lips,
ambrosia envenoms words that are
lost to the raindrops’ slip and shatter
upon the rain-painted pavement.
intent, lost in torpid quick-paced days,
is strung in a series of deceitful gestures,
impeccably performed on the stage of passion,
fleeting game, and feigned interest.
the words you whispered through my lips
and the promises you’ve uttered – all turned
but the cobwebs, grime, and filth that’ve gathered
will fade. and my laughs will still be genuine
while your smiles remain fake.
kisses, stolen and imprisoned
behind lips, locked in passion; fingers,
entwined in tangles of hair.
uttered quietly, between breaths
escapes illusions of love. they say
your words are false and empty.
the meaning of conversation,
lost and infused in the journeys
our eyes take across our naked bodies;
our waists, glued together.
your handsome face and plastered smile
insinuate blind and thoughtless infatuation:
half-hearted, hidden promises
and sweetly chortled lies.