dead; no longer

friction of your palms against mine
as our fingertips dance tango in the dark
on your neck of my inhibitions mark
your gasps - of my indulgence sighs
my lips slowly sliding along yours
of your ear taste in my mouth melts
your heartbeat echoes in my hand
my blood rushes as if it was dead

Bitter Cynic of Color Red

infectous are these thoughts of your sticky lips
contagious is the taste of your sweaty fingertips
twirling like a tiny feather in this vertigo of heat
my hand on your chest - seeking of your heart beat
what has become of me - a bitter cynic of color red
once convinced love is no longer, but a soldier of lead
my mind is lost - my guards long forgotten, broken
in this feeling of warmth - undeniably i have sunken

in my nostrils - smell of your skin tingling
in my thoughts - your dark eyes shimmering
away from me goes reason when you touch my hand
torn shreds of my broken heart you perfectly seem to mend
kiss me kiss me kiss me for i want to quiver
touch me touch me touch me for i want to shiver

what has become of me - a bitter cynic of color red
once convinced love is no longer, but a soldier of lead