|love is the driveway where I met you
Author: speakeasy-love PM
a delicate slip of a sleeve.Rated: Fiction T - English - Poetry - Words: 604 - Published: 07-18-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2829836
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I swear to god the idea is killing me! because I have had it and I have lost it. many times, very quickly. love is fast. I have had it hard very late at night. when we cannot talk much and I cannot scream. love can get old, and turn into something very ugly, yeah that can happen too.
love can walk by holding someone else's hand,
and that can happen more then once. love can forget your name and call you "carol" because sometimes love is just sex. sometimes love is just sex, and love can get very close to like, and it can become likelove, and that never leads to anything but cold empty bed sheets.
love can drive under the freeway bridge
while you are passing, and really you won't be heard when you grab the fence wall jump onto the rail to scream "you fucking asshole!". love wont hear you at all going 70mph with a young number in the passenger seat of his gay little scion.
love can be quite.
and sometimes never spoken. but it can be there, dipping over party store aisles. love can be a smile, or mindful shift of the feet, a delicate slip of a sleeve, and some very short shorts.
love is the living room couch that his shirt matches.
and when he is lost in his couch colored shirt, he cannot be found again. and you can't just love a couch.
love is hello.
please tell me how you can make me happy? do you have a big dick to put in me, and a car to drive? a bed? someplace where your little brother will walk in and see me after we have just fucked. because you are in the shower, because I am a whore.
love can give Chlamydia to four
people. although that's more likely due to the whore. Chlamydia can make love less likely in the future.
love calls three weeks later
to ask "hey, hows it going?" which often looks like "heyy was goin onn ?" "whass goin on". and often the response is "hey man! yah kno, blazing and stealin fruit ha. wassup?" is what love sounds like over the 3G network. as we send; mountains and miles away, nude pictures and "on my way"s.
love steals fruit!
my love for you would love the steal a basket of fruit for you!
and as I come down to it, love is wishing. for the phone to come alive with there names, love is being unusual without cause or vindication! love is music being heard for the first time!
love is a cascade
of very hot (or very cold) water coming down onto your bed with you still in it. love is learning to sing.
love is becoming what you have always wanted to be!
love is being beautiful and soulful and full of rhyme and poetry. love is the song I sing! for you, hoping that it carries over the sundresses and seaside's. I sing it loud and proud, because I don't fear anyone one knowing it!
love is the driveway where I met you.
when you first smiled at me and I first smiled at you. and when it gets cold I take your thin hands into mine, and pull you into my jacket.
love is you in my jacket.
as they get deeper and deeper, until a bite mark forms and a nipple is twisted. while everyone is watching.
love is in me.
the boy in me I love.
that, is what I know of love.