likeawritingdesk:

I have found 
meaning in the morning

I dance under the
cherry trees on the
pink streets

waving one arm above
the other

tongue between my
teeth

eyes barely open

the sun kisses my bare back
laughing

she knows what it’s
like, how I’m feeling

ginger in my spicy
breath

claw marks on your
back 

I have changed a lot this year.　

inertiatic:

I swear that I could pick
the way your skin tastes in the shower

out of an entire field of moonflowers
all standing like tiny trees beside our barefeet

just wanting to be near us
while the summer wind swirls in a way only it can

as quiet as the candle burning
making silhouettes of these words and fingertips

their shadows stretching across your shoulders and thighs
the shadows that are filled to the brim with delicate rainclouds

aching to be the shower of another poem
and of course,

I’d know that taste anywhere.

Love,