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dulcetdecember: “leggage (by nirrimi) ”
dulcetdecember

leggage (by nirrimi)

Source: Flickr / nirrimi

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o-w-l-i-s-h
digressionsofsymmetry digressionsofsymmetry

To lay
against your bareness
Prurient not
Exposed together
My hands along
your skin
feels like perfection
-
Fit my pieces into
place
your experience beneath
my fingertips
feels like
you are permanence
-
The skin doesn’t
have to be
soft
-
Give me
your scars
everywhere
bumps, rough patches, flakes
personality
You are my
conclusion
climax
completion
-
If only to watch you
draw
in your breaths
memorize
everything

5000letters

Anonymous asked:

They say that every seven years every cell in our body has been replaced. I wonder if that would mean my body would forget how it felt like to have your hands, your lips, your love on my skin. Maybe by then, the sound of your name won't leave the bitter aftertaste of regret in my mouth. (Is this what cyanide would taste like?) But it will, I know it will. You are too deep in me, you are under my skin, you are in my bones. Releasing you would mean cutting myself open, and I am not strong enough.

5000letters answered:

Every seven years I become new again but whatever that is old inside of me recognises what is old inside of you and loves you still.

feistyangel3-deactivated2015092
mgreywood

Get naked with me

I don’t mean
Strip your clothes off
And touch skin to skin
My rough fingertips
On your porcelain

Get naked with me

I don’t mean
Flesh shown to the world
Eyes devouring you
Before we find the bed
Just to screw

Get naked with me

I mean lay your soul
On the table in front of me
Spill your heart into my hands
Be truly naked
Let our souls dance

Get naked with me

I mean let me in
Deeper inside than anyone
Has ever been before
Show me yourself
Truth I can’t ignore

Get naked with me

And I’ll do the same
I’ll return the trust
There’s so much to gain
Naked or bust
Is the name of the game

Get naked with me

Source: mgreywood
maya-poetry
I felt you
On my skin
Like butterflies
Like raindrops
Your hands
Are miles away
Do you think
Of me sometimes
Do you feel
My touch
As I feel yours
Like a ghost
Like a memory
My body responds
Out of habit
My heart races
And my knees get
Weak
I think I
Forgot what you
Look like
But I can feel
You
On my skin
I can’t remember but I won’t forget (via mayaashleym)
poetryriot

natural

poetryriot

the magazines tell me
‘natural’
is a dirty word

like my bare skin
is some kind of rebellion.

i have laid no foundation.
no mascara on the windows.
so they find my architecture
unacceptable.

yet I think my home
is beautiful.
simply
because it is home.
my skin.
my nature.

still
i hear them whisper
‘natural’ is a dirty word -
and you don’t say those out loud.
do you?

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