It Clicks


Can you explain
The scales that consecutively run
To those that cannot sense it.

Our vision that pales;
His, hers, and mine,
In the faces of sophists.

Then dewy inklings
Of feathered proofs lapse
By subsequent engineering
In uncounted droplets
On tympanic shields
From deciphers felt.

Breathless moments buried;
Dissonant reverberations
Things I
Use to

Inside of Interactions

I didn’t get to see
Her interact with others,
With me.
I didn’t get to read those things,
Those small things,
You read
Inside of interactions.
I wanted to hear her voice,
I wanted to hear they way she’d form her words,
I wanted to hear each note,
Each dip, every drop
In pitch, for every emotion.
I wanted to read her faces,
To witness every twitch,
Every burst of expression,
Each smile, frown,
Furrowed brow, pursed lips,
Every open and close,
The slightest subtle changes
When I touched her,
To trace the curves
Of her shoulders, her neck,
Her bones, her flesh,
Her tits, her ass,
Her thighs
Around my waist
Her arms, her legs,
Her head buried in mine,
Her weight, her presence,
Her warmth, her skin,
Her forms of moisture
From perspiration, to saliva,
To her vagina,
To taste her flavors,
To breathe in her essence,
Of her breath,
Of her body,
Her head.