If An House Is An Home, Where Does That Leave You And I
The light shines down.
by Kewayne Wadley
Amplifying bright lit bottles and dark plastered tables.
Her Fingernail polish is careless, painted in blotches across her nails.
The thought of unsnapped bras and unzipped pants intersects with the segue of pleasure.
The door opens to mirrored ceilings
And plastered walls.
Quick sips taken from the stare of her eyes.
Inebriated by the lust of verbal stimulation.
We stumbled. Losing balance to the steps taken in each others fantasy.
Those cherry colored lips stained against mine.
Smeared thoughts, soon to swirl around
As tongues lost in bitter darkness.
The press of lips. Soft, gentle.
Beneath the insecure vanity we saw reflected off one another's eye.
Nails dug into each others skin
A vow, understanding that the next moment isn't one of promise.
I held her heart in my hands.
I pulled myself away, finding that her eyes pursued.
She searched my pockets, finding that I had nothing to hide.
Naked to the reflection in her eye.
She readjusted herself as we both sought air.
Unable to breathe in each others caress.
Confiding on each others shoulder.
The taste of each others breath,
Becoming the inside of closed eyelids.
Shadows afraid to wake, scattered by light sighs of comfort.
We were selfish. Pulling each other close, just to push each other away.
Goosebumps kept awake in fear
That we'd wake up in utter disgust at one another.
The vanity of plastic vinyl, hiding away
What's truly felt on the other side of you, and I.
Making the most of our sleep.
Seeking a dream to never wake from