In Tribute; A Confession

I have heard your soft moans—not speaking, just dreaming,
A thrown back head and a pine cone heart
In our night.
Excess in the outskirt cold; a welcome farce—-a dream perhaps?
No question.
Blurred lines drawn in orange bedsheets
Eluding the blue kiss window pane light
Those tiny teeny nuances
You dot your I’s with little hash marks
How the paint chips off of your fingernails,
And the way that your teeth click together
When you have the best idea you’ve ever had; you have a lot of ideas.
You make me close the curtains and straighten the papers on the desk and for that moment
I am burning for you (my dilettante delicacy?)
And I want to hold every inch of you outside of me; pull your skin into my skin and find your innocence
Because I believe it still exists.
In sugary blasphemy
And “Please, please, please.”
Confessing to each other (
praying to each other?
)
Not seen nor touched nor smelled
Nor letting the duplicate treasure map lines cross
Both young and sweet and slick-skinned and foul-mouthed and
I fucking hated
The way that my clothes fell
But I love
The way you smelled like fresh flowers
home cooking
And someone else’s lover

In Tribute; A Confession

Matt H.

Joined December 2009

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 17

Artist's Description

It was our secret, and I will never betray her.

Artwork Comments

  • stephaniemwood
  • Matt H.
  • pagan
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  • Cathal .
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  • spanish
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  • AlliD
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  • CreativeKitty
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