De Girasol




You make me feel like an angel with wings out-stretched and hands flying. 


I find things hard to hear when the breath you are blowing in my ear sets my skin   

 Ablaze.


With the strength of your iron bosom I listen to the rhythm that resonates continually.

"And he is beautiful." She said as she pushed her hair behind her ear. 

The moon rises with her glowing rays and the songs play and the sirens sing         
           Annoying lyrics but it does not matter much. 

And I am glowing and my nipples prickle, and my nose crinkles and I feel eager. 

I have a reason to get sick and heel stricken where my head topples over      
And falls between my ankles.

And the pace of a beating drum is not fast enough, and the warmth in my belly     
Will not subside, and this redness will not leave my face.

And the kisses you leave everywhere have me yearning again and again.

And if painting in patience cannot explain it then my eyes will,

And these pretty butterflies will not go away, and now you make me  
Just a little anxious. 

And my kisses need your fresh lips like the lipstick on my chapped lips,

I inhale because each one is engrossing and tingles through my pours,

I am almost lightheaded, (and I think I am may need you)
And I want you more and more.

And I will paint your for a new you and let you inside of my passions,
And I have found you despite the old me who has grown quite out of fashion.

I cannot get you off my mind.

This feeling is entrancing. 

It is incessant. 

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