He said.. I can right all the wrongs.. that “The Last One” did. I can make it right.
I can kiss the spots that “The Last One” forgot and find the one’s that “The Last One” didn’t know you had.
I can right all the wrongs. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix it. If you ease a bit.. just a inch, I’ll come in and treat you like you never been treated. I promise I won’t let you down.
But every time he’s with me..I’m on the ground.
My clothes are dirty and tattered, my hair is frizzed and lipstick smudged down to my chin. My heels are black and back bruised. Use to being used.
He says he’s my Savior… I thought Saviors claimed souls, not flesh.
Let us play the game..Now. It’s our time (NOW)
I love you (for Now)
You say you love me too.
We meet at 2 am; 3 weeks straight (it’s a record)
Fever-flushed, hot, rough, and fast.
I love you now..In this moment..I love you
I even like you..I wonder why I hadn’t (we haven’t ) done this before. Why I hadn’t had you here sooner.
More for now, it’s more I want. I want more..You want more..we take.. we steal..selfish fuckers.. taking whatever feels good, for how ever long it lasts.. I love it now.. I want it now..
In this moment..it’s YOU I want…
Two bull-shitters feeding each other the same shit..
Hungry and skinny for way too long.
Starving so much so..that we gobble up whatever is fed
Use to being used..played the fool by past lovers
We vow to be vindicated.. to get back all that was lost
We play love..we lie..we feed
We stuff and cram whatever we can..
Now Obese and sick…we’re forced to spit out and vomit all that we consumed.
Lightening stretched across the sky and beamed through the curtains..
Twilight slept upon my dreary face..
Fallen shoulders lie on purple sheets.
A breath… a blow. To sleep but never to dream.
Uneasy and restless.
Beautiful yet untouched.
Fruitful curls perfectly kept. Peach smooth lips. Satin belly with rose tucked navel.
Rested thigh and dangled foot.
Unmoved and still. Lush and Lively, yet unreachable.
Unattainable and Undisturbed.
Internally suspended within realms of impossibility.
Wishful wanting for something that never comes.
Dews of longing in an ebony pupil.
A capture of presumed tranquility.
…A proud lie for the Photographers portfolio.