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DovesFeeling the planets along the curve of our bodies align,Doves
I am sewing our skins together and tasting the stars on your tongue and watching the glitter shift in your eyes of black.
Lying on our backs, spines stiff shivering and cold.
We watch the lights from the cars below dance with the shadows on the ceilings. Glassy eyed.
Breathings, shallow. Bruised.
Four hours of late night morning. Of you.
Your velvet lips brush against mine, I succumb to your poison once more.
by ~7ucille
Because Perfection Is BoringI made a list of your charms And I made a list of your flaws Because I'm in love with you, I'm in love with allBecause Perfection Is Boring
by ~7ucille
I'm Returning Your StarsThen, we were happy like the summer of June Then, we exchanged the stars in our skies And played in each other's backyards of naive philosophiesI'm Returning Your Stars
What we had, were paper cranes of wishes that readily flew away Thinning clouds of patience that threatened a storm Clocks that ticked backwards, ignorance And promises only as bold as sandcastles
The songs we sang are old vinyl records stored away in cardboard boxes. What's left, is your image as a black and white photograph hanging on the walls of my heart.
We were never the complimenting colours of the rainbow.
by ~7ucille
HoneycombShaking hands sweep across crystalized surfaces.Honeycomb
Your breath a ghost caressing my cheek.
Control my body like a marionette doll, tender.
Listen to the silence as our tongues perform a ritual dance, and our hands explore the most secret of places, decoding the secret inscriptions of desire carved into our canvas of skins.
Irises roll back and a sea of blue and a white moon envelopes, upside down.
Amber eyes, crimson lips.
Breathe.
by ~7ucille
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Under your bed
- Interests: Eyelash wishes, psychedelic dreams, butterfly kisses, vampires
- Favourite movie: Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, He Loves Me He Loves Me Not, Amelie
- Favourite style of art: Abstract, Conceptual
- Tools of the Trade: Traditional, imagination
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Yesterday's literature is today's sense of humor
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Yesterday's literature is today's sense of humor
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Each week, I feature one deviant in my journal and on my page. Please check them out! And if you know of someone who deserves to be featured, don't be shy! Note me!
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i'm like pudding, i look like crap but i'm sweet
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MERCI BEAUCOUP
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Oliver James washed in the rain no longer.
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