Sleepy

I find him much more beautiful when his eyes are closed.

Something about sleeping makes his skin smoother, his hair shinier, clothes more fitting, breathing more like a lullaby, and my secretive love for him grows.

The slow movements of his chest are soothing like a beachy landscape or the smell of pine trees in fall.

It's his natural beauty and intoxicating scent that draws me in, but it's the lack of reciprocating longing that breaks my heart.

Like plucking off the petals of a flower in spring, each inhale says he loves me, while his exhales destroy me.




Poetry by kaytee
Read 648 times
Written on 2008-12-08 at 02:37

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text