literature

the sweetest thing

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forestmeetwildfire's avatar
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Literature Text

the sweetest kind of kiss
tastes like the tickle of
grass upon our necks

and the sun-warmed
pavement on our bare
so(u)les

it tastes like
cotton ball clouds
and candy cane planes
sunburned shoulders bearing
the brunt of our days

it's the kind where your
eyelashes flutter
and your fingers can't help
but reach for his face

when all you can think
is how the sun turns his eyes
into blue-gold oceans
and how wonderfully his palms
fit snugly onto your waist

and my god someone put
a chair beneath me before
my legs give out,

because you've never felt this before.

how you want to stay
pressed against him like
this for another few hours,
maybe

and how afterwards he'll
put his face at your neck
and just inhale, fingers tangled
wildly in your hair

it's the kind of kiss where
i open my eyes to
see yours smiling back at me
ok, i know. i write too many sappy love poems. i just can't help myself, alright?

is the whole pronoun usage thing strange? because originally it's me (where "you" means him), and then i change to the "general population" you, and then i go back to me? is that too confusing?
© 2012 - 2024 forestmeetwildfire
Comments15
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Sister-to-the-Queen's avatar
And that is one amazing kiss. Ten points!

Sappy? If you wish to call it that. Sometimes, hon, we just need sappy.

(Also, nope, not confusing at all.)