I want to meet a woman with my eyes closed.
Witnessing so many eyes twinkle,
I’ve been blinded way too many times,
Refuse to be swindled…
I want to hear the vibrations of her voice enter my eardrums and see how voluptuous her soul is,
Enkindle her curiosity enough to yearn for,
A kiss blown with,
The only kind of Love true to a man who willingly seeks atonement…
It’s nice when considered handsome,
My favorite conversations were always with a woman who would mash up,
Her need for physical contact with so much more than just a dash of,
Interest in a story I’ve been writing and dying tell…
My only question is,
Is it a story too boring?
I only ask because,
There’s details I have written that bored me!
By describing a sense of myself broken from change I’ve abhorred,
For far too long.
If she reads past the plot,
Would she not see each skeleton I’ve buried in a past,
With a hand in writing a story I’ve shamelessly wrought…