JHem

 I close my hand mirror after a treacherous morning priming myself for self-beautification. "Today's my day," I affirm to let assuredness override hesitanceness. My hair patted down after rinsing excess conditioner, I run my hands through its soft marshmallow texture. "She'll get a touch of the clouds as my hair brushes against her," I whisper to myself. I make sure to wear light and bright; it'll draw her gaze like a moth to a flame. I contrast my turquoise polo shirt with black jeans so she knows I have depth. But this isn't enough. I have to leave her breathless. A gentle dab of Pond Leaf clenching my neck is how I'll shake her knees to follow. I reveal myself by closely passing her as she waits in line for her morning Golden Latte, making sure the heavenly touch of my hair coyly caresses the back of her neck as I do so. "Ah, I'm sorry. My hair goes a little wild when they see what they want." I press my fawning eyes into her min...

I've held a million different hands. Each drawn from a special texture. Each sparked with their own heat. I wished to believe I was being guided, But maybe my hand was being pulled. I sought them out to not freeze in winter. But by grace I reached my hand to it's ice. My fingers sank into the cold. They warmed up to it's chills, As if they were held themselves By home long forgotten, by me.

Even before my mouth can bend air, There's a "yes" that came even before. I held my own hand through the dark So my own warmth became my light. I had no reason to dabble in what's fair. My thoughts let go of my head to freefall. The pillow became the goal of my mark. No whispers saying "you're not right." My fingers slipped the book holding on. Looking back was the moonflower foretold. Magic trapped me as we touched Before I could even point. I knew with just a whiff, My smile reflected its, Fully knowing so.

All that can be heard are pots and pans chatter, Interrupted when my nose catches a "h-achoo." You return, teeth trapped with one another. They tap out a message with every tick. You let my fingers prance around your shoulder, My hands held in yours without a mutter. A nod melts into a kiss, tattooed by your lipstick. Your bite becomes a nibble by my words, "For you and I, I made sure to plan." One look at the picnic basket and you knew, "To plant my garden of smiles from you." Never a moment without haste, My apple already admired for its taste. Grown from the soil of you and I, Kissable chuckles plucked when ripe. I'm made a pillow at our nest. Before I realized it, I am in her plight. My touch silks through her hair, They drop like rain on a soft night. My heart a warming lantern, Leading your gaze to my mirror, My eyes reflect my world, you learn. You sing our favorite song for sure,  "I'm sure to love you forevermore." You're in ...

The cold has been her favorite for a lifetime, But she's come to fall in love with summertime. She's firm in making a blanket from my body, I puff into the cloud she covers herself in. My eyes drop their guard seeing her blushed cheeks,  I quiver when mine, smooth as glass, mirrors hers. A quiet whisper, "did I just hear your mouth squeak?" It's like for her to paint my face rose is all that matters. She pulls me in for our nose to brush. I become the frozen cold she adores. I remember insecurity as she pulls away, Only to feel a tickle traversing down my arms. She walks my fingers gently past my neck, Demanding them to rest against my voice. Her eager lips paint against my neck. I feel the vanilla air from their gaze, It blows over the mess she drizzled. Death visits as she's chastised my moan. Teeth digging into her masterpiece, I'm reborn from her committing sin.

I pour my hands into a bath. From a long day without rest, The ease of reason to indulge A premiere soap for a cleanse, Holy enough to be wrapped by clouds A blessing befallen from the heavens, The light gives out to me reaching for a hand, But these fingers of mine only slip pass. A firm, yet fierce grip eats at mine. Silly ole huffs gives size to your heart, But a pop blows as a vanishing act. I allow a splash to paint itself on mine. I feel this heart of mine, A soft, yet gentle, Squish

Contacts and eyewear for looking behind eyes. A home to comment ethereal from reality. A bit of my senses burned in cremation. Aires travel breathed in kindly. Tasting as sprinkles covering ice cream  Through your ear to your world for projection. I gave you a pen alongside colors. Ink cutting paper as you stayed in line. Thunder came to knock you off kilter, A sudden scream of sound being fiction Rain proceeded your eye of storm. Guide-lines washed off your canvas. Fingertips able to glide through heaven. No need for sins being why you hide.