Sonnet XXX
Added 2024-03-07 19:12:51 +0000 UTCThe morning fog obscures all clarity.
Meandering, my hands reach out to you.
The truth of touch is all the verity
I need to breathe and start my day anew.
Kiss me like ideas start to spread.
Kiss me like a root absorbs the dirt.
Fuck me hard like laugher mocks the dead.
Love me so reality will hurt.
If devils stop my heart while we do pray,
I will burn smiling thinking of today.
Comments
Yeah. Gonna need to put a sticky note reminder on my phone that *this* kind of content hits waaaayyyyyy too hard at midnight.
Bama Angi
2024-03-22 04:46:52 +0000 UTCHe said “Kiss me like ideas start to spread” “Fuck me hard like laughter mocks the dead” “Love me so reality will hurt” ……Sir I can’t be blushing this hard
Brittjadeheart
2024-03-16 17:15:50 +0000 UTCIf I got a little note like this, I can only imagine what I’d do to whoever took the time to write it…hang on…this is a thought I want to enjoy for a moment. Or I’d be dead. Or pregnant- I imagine if there are any words that have the ability to make that happen, it would be these exact words. Definitely don’t want the second two options, so I’ll go with the first…
IndyMndy
2024-03-10 07:16:27 +0000 UTC“Kiss me like a root absorbs the dirt.” Do you want me to fall in love with you? Please relax. 🥹
kindofquixotic
2024-03-09 07:02:34 +0000 UTCOkay I've been trying to figure out a somewhat appropriate way to say this so I'll go with.... I *very* much enjoyed (and continue to enjoy) all the poetic responses. Wow. Grazie.
Ray Purchase
2024-03-08 23:16:07 +0000 UTCI-🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
Kari Jo
2024-03-08 05:26:01 +0000 UTCReality already hurts, Doc, that’s why I try not to spend much time there. 🖤
sleepykitten13
2024-03-08 01:18:31 +0000 UTCLove this, I am incapable of being so succinct
sleepykitten13
2024-03-08 00:53:13 +0000 UTCWhat god did I offend In this life or the last To be cursed to fall asleep and awaken With the voice of a love I cannot touch Reverberating along my spine Ricocheting inside my skull Tingling between my thighs To smell him in the incense burning at my bedside To feel his touch in my own desperately searching hands To taste him in the wine that stains my lips dark red Cold late-winter breezes become His hot phantom breath on my neck His embrace is the warmth of my evening tea While he speaks to me in the words of a dozen dead poets And soothes me with the music that lives in my bones What penance must I do To quiet this screaming need To quell this aching hunger To quench this burning thirst On what altar Must I sacrifice My still-beating heart To touch the voice that fills my body to bursting
sleepykitten13
2024-03-08 00:11:38 +0000 UTCMy Maestro hungers for a morning song. Play my sore nerves with gentle hands. I will play yours with soft lips.
Róisín
2024-03-07 23:39:18 +0000 UTCImagine getting flowers or something and he’s just casually written you something like this on the card. Tell me you wouldn’t dissolve into ether.
Carrie
2024-03-07 22:14:16 +0000 UTCWhich is to say, you’re an incredible writer
Moira
2024-03-07 19:50:59 +0000 UTCI can’t decide if this gives me Sleep Token vibes or Hozier vibes or both but either way I am heeeeeere for it
Moira
2024-03-07 19:50:36 +0000 UTC
