fantasy – The Messy Middle 🖤

Orange Crush.

Crush,

I’m a lush when it comes to you.

You make my blood rush, it’s true.

Crush,

I wonder if you notice me too.

–S.

You kiss your way up my spine,

my breath stops like the time,

you have to resuscitate me,

your lips on mine.

–S.

The brush strokes remind me of your strokes.

Color.

Intensity.

Pressure.

Length.

Width.

Release.

–S.

You are the taste of the color yellow.

I know that doesn’t make much sense, but I dance when I think of you.

You’re the last slice of cake,

the sweetest strawberry,

the house around the bend,

the song playing when they announce last call,

the song the breeze from the ocean sings,

the reason I believe in magic,

the feeling I get right before the main characters in a romantic comedy finally get it together and are about to kiss,

and the sweet dreamlike fog between awake and asleep.

–S.

You come to me in a dream, nothing is as it seems.

You come to me in a dream, flying with black wings.

You come to me in a dream, glowing like an ultralight beam.

You come to me in a dream, this is a nightly reoccurring theme.

In a dream, you seem, made of sweet creme.

In real life, a man with a scheme.

Oh, but, in a dream.

–S.