Her
She told me to write her a poem
But I didn't want to.
I didn't want to reminisce
On the nostalgic memories
Like tasting her lips under the clouds
Or tracing the contours of her body
with my fingertips
Or pressing my lips against the pulse
in her neck
While I feel her goosebumps rising
From her chest to her thighs.
Her moans start to harmonize
And synchronize to a realm of
euphoria and
Our clothes shed like snakes skin.
Now we're stomach to stomach
And her skin smells of lavender.
Smoother than silk.
Gentle kisses turning to bites,
Fights from the day before
Fade like gradient shades of gray.
Our bodies merging into one
One muted moan after the other.
Don't make me remember
The days we used to spend together
Embracing the smile on her face
And the exploding emerald fireworks
in her eyes.
She told me to write her a poem,
But I kind of wanted to.
I wanted to let her know how I felt.
So I told her that the thought of her
Makes me feel like I'm strapped to a
cannon
At the bottom of the Marianna
Trench
Being surrounded by demons that
reside in my head.
She's the only one who can
Pull me from this bottomless abyss.
She's the sustenance I need to
survive,
But she's leaving me to drown and
suffocate.
And she still has the audacity to
scrutinize the scars on my skin,
Even though the scars she left go
much deeper.
She told me to write her a poem.
And so I did,
But that's the day I watched her
leave.
Copyright © Vincent Rodriguez | Year Posted 2014
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