deepundergroundpoetry.com

They Call It Magic

They call it magic,
the unexpected connection
weaving words,
pouring desire on a page
in matching ink.

Someone...

A soul....

a stranger

Halfway around the world

Knows the buttons to press

The strokes to play on his old guitar

to send me singing entangling tongues.

Purpose to our lips;
that when they part our thoughts
coexist in the harmony
of familiarity in differences.

Breathless I am left at the sound of a voice I have only just heard.

Speaking so easily his words into my own.

I feel drunk as I listen to his vision.

How easily he grants me passage to bed with him on blank pages where we gasp for air in our moaning and growling exploration.

In catching our lost breath we are reminded, fine wine and creative minds are meant to be savored.

Take it easy

Take it slow.

I have never feared a man,
But he draws....

shaking to my knees,

stammering to my tongue.

He is that that intrigues me
and terrifies me all at once

He is what I ran from in the nights sneaking away...

Heels in hand from some stranger's soaked and sticky bed.

But in the other breath he is also what I have hoped.

Someone to play with my thoughts,

to set my soul aflame,

bodies gliding across sheets and pages,

but I hesitate in his doorway whispering;

Trembling stutters throwing him....

A line in my story,

A piece of my heart,

A thought from my shelves,

Morsels from where I stand.....

Not wanting to hold myself naked and exposed for him just yet.

Patience waits....

Giving pieces of him to pass the chill of the morning....

We killed the still in our closeness and brought light to the ever lingering darkness.

I shake in curiosity,

In fear of meaning

In loving and loathing

that connection in one single moment.

His thoughts lift my chin so I can view my own reflection in him.

Do I fear him because I fear myself?

Eyes wander to the open window where pitiful eyes beg him to bed....

I expect no less,
I don't know him,
I don't own him
And she is what he has left.

I believe his mind has waited in limbo
Drowning out the sounds of the creaking headboard with forced words.

That it had grown weary until it cradled and wound itself a web alongside mine in seamless verse.

I believe his mind refused silence in that moment...

His will extended to shun what had mattered to him yesterday.

Seems existence is him in me embracing our demons in not so innocent bindings, the throwing of curses against the flesh and bone of this....

He shuts the window,

Pulls the curtains,

Leaving us alone with our thoughts

Hearts that beat in longing and fear of things to come.

His eyes making love to mine in a dance of discovery and want.

His words beg for indulgence in my ears.

How do I tell him I'm broken beyond repair?

Just another question I didn't really need to ask

He has all ready began caressing my scars with his own slowly,

precisely meeting our every wound with his own.

Am I mending in him?

So suddenly, what time could not fix?

In just a few moments spent caught in thought with curiosity and writing pens?

I spent my nights behind shades....

Dressed to kill in little black dress...

Spiked stilettos

And sex.

Not in a long time have anything gave me life.

So why now do I feel everything when this man hasn't even touched me beyond the extents of a wandering eye yet?

He asks questions knowing my answer will only echo that of his own.

Equally attempting to fathom the reasoning in our knowing when we don't.

We write to blend what was meant to be stitched together.

Our lines they are vines on a fence overlapping and connected.

Still I sit across from him

Red wine stained lips

Smoking that cigarette

Whispering in smoked one too many rasp.

Why am I so at ease?

A question I didn't need to ask.

My vision needed a man's touch gliding its edges,

But men are but only panting,

Drooling dogs staring to my cleavage for knowledge.

Deaf to every word I have said,

So why is it I feel safe in this ones hands....?

They call it magic...

A collaborative flick of the wrist....

Bounce of ideas...

Feelings amiss....

Another's face...

In your own reflection....

Looking back at you from the mirror...
Written by Erotic_Goddess
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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