I touch you in a place
most look past,
a place within reach.

It is within this place
I feel most alive.

The space between hearts,
the space between fingers,
interlocked, soft and slow.

No one really pays attention
to the space mid-heartbeat
only the beginning and the end
of palpation.

But here, I taste the air
and come to life.

It’s not heavy.
In fact, I am weightless.

But I feel it
in the hopes that you reciprocate.

No different than the space
between minutes,
simply ticking.

The world is not ours,
but that isn't a reason to be afraid.

When I think about you,
I visit this place,
not afraid to knock on your ribs,
with every intention
to exist closer to your heart

I don’t know if you ever listened to the sky

when it gets hungry.

It growls.
It rumbles.
Even roams.

It sits in the dark,
contemplating what it wants.

Then,

Boom.

Thunder hits
without warning.

At some point,
we've all been there
hungry, with no idea
what we want to eat,
no one to ask,
everything sounding good.

Thunder hits again.

The hush left to whisper
between lips,
******* in air.

It’s enough to make you mad.

The rain doesn’t wait.
The lightning
not knowing where to begin.

Hunger waits for release.

I am the moment
that waits for you

in-between

Girl, you so jive.
You can talk butter off bread
all sweet, whether the sun is shining or not.

I seen your type before,
wearing a dress, your purse matching
whatever printed accent
swaying in the wind.

I bet when it rains,
it doesn’t touch you
too busy moving,
too many things going on.

I bet you smile
even when no one is around.
Who needs company
when you got it going on like that?

Gone head, snap your fingers,
do your step
with your jive self.

You walk in like you own the place,
scratching off pieces of your heart
whether it’s the right place
or the wrong time.

One thing they can’t say
about you
is that you hold up the line.

Everybody gets a piece.

You ain’t fooling nobody
with your jive self.

Some things
are more important than money.

With your sweet,
jive self.

Your name fit in my mouth
like a prayer I don’t remember whispering,
somewhere between hunger
and desire.

It was an apple,
ripe and on time.
I didn’t ask where it came from,
but I was glad to see it.
It presses between my lips,
juice slipping
down my wrist.

Before meeting you,
I don’t quite remember
the taste of anything.
And I know better
the weight of consequence,
the weight of every yes
and no,
how a single bite
can change everything.

Now that I’ve tasted you,
I love you past knowing,
though part of me reconsiders,
curious
about the sound of your name.

By this definition,
hunger has its own way
of deciding what stays
and what goes.

Where once I wouldn’t have dared,
now I know
what you feel like in my hands,
how easily you get caught
in my teeth,
how you remind me
of spring,
summer,
and fall.

No matter how fast
my heart beats,
when I bite,
I am whole
hunger silencing
the thought of losing you.



Love Poem, Creative Writing, Falling For You, Temptation, Desire, Apple Symbolism, Intimacy, Eve And The Apple, Deep Meaning, The Art Of Words, Fate, Words That Burn, Lust, Forbidden Fruit, Writing Community, Magnetic Love, Lost In The Words, Kewayne Wadley Poetry, Discover Poetry, Hunger, Unfinished Business, Late Night Vibes, Romantic, For Her, Poetry Blog, Original Poetry, Heart On Paper, The Way Things Change, Risk, Intimate, Weight Of Choice, Point Of No Return, Spiritual, Emotional, Instinctive, Sensual, Restraint,

They love to say
we bring out the best in each other
that I bring out the best in you,
like that's the only thing I am good for,
the only reason I am in your life.

They smile
and point.

It won’t last.
Eventually, he will leave.
Even the moon goes through phases.

As if I’ll just
pack my bags
and leave you behind,

as if I could just
erase my entire existence.

Baby,
I love how they think
you cannot think
for yourself.

your friends,
all the people around you.

They think they know
the truth
when they see me
half the time.

Baby,
I understand
the concept,
the concern.

But even the moon
doesn’t fully disappear,
If you look closer.

Just because they don’t see it
doesn’t mean
I’ve left your sky.

Some things
are just meant
for you.

No matter
how much they point,
or try to pull you
to the side,

there is no hiding
from you

I want to build a home with you
a place pieced together of words,
passed from you to me.

Eventually, the walls will breathe,
and they, too, will whisper
through our bones.

No matter how old we get,
they will still be there.

Although neither of us will
completely own this home,
what we will own
is how it makes us feel
and the memories we'll soon sit on
like furniture.

A place we'll come to spend
most of our time,
an inner standing
that it will house both of us,
no matter how we choose
to express ourselves.

The first meal we'll have,
I'll season with my smile
so you can taste what I taste
and feel what I feel
when I see you.

Then you'll understand
why I have nothing to hide,
why I open and include you
in different places in my life.

In this home I want to build with you,
there isn't a wind or a force
that could blow it down.

Even if we were to separate,
my hands will still remember
how we built it
brick by brick,

the mortar sealed
with a kiss from your lips

Well, babe, I’ve been let go
I am still learning how to let go.
My hands are so tired.
The people we once were,
the you I once knew,
evaporate into the rearview.

If you refuse to drive
hell, if you won’t even touch the wheel
we’ll keep speeding toward something too dark,
something neither of us can name.
I don't want that for us.

If not for me, then for you.
If I take my foot off the gas,
we go nowhere.
You said, let go.
But there is no way I can let go
without leaving you behind.

We don’t have to crash.
Babe, I’m tired.
We’ve driven too far past the last exit to turn around.
Skidded across the median more times than I’d like.
I don’t mind the potholes,
the chipped paint,
or the blurred lines.

but if we pull over,
I’m not getting back behind the wheel