deepundergroundpoetry.com

Trite, cliché, pretentious

I do so want to compare thee to a summer’s day,  
and let your temperance fall like spun sugar on my lips:
 
But face it, baby,  
you ain’t temperate,
and  
I live in the subtropics.
 
So fuck it.  
 
Fuck the peppermint dreams I’d think
if it wasn’t  
(if you weren’t)…
So…  
Damn…  
Hot… .
 
When I compare you to a summer’s day,  
I’m thinking humid, sultry, sticky, wet,  
so damn hot I have to pull apart my thighs,  
as your candy kisses melt like welts against my bare shoulders.  
 
And were I to compare you to a summer’s day,  
your eyes would be novas  
burning past my white tank top,  
your wolfish grin a heat wave prickling my skin against the feral breeze.    
 
And if I compared you to a summer’s day,  
the tan lines on my ass would be from your hands  
as they gripped me, like I was an oasis in a merciless desert,
matching the nail marks on your back, as I equally found rain in the wasteland.  
 
And if I were a summer’s day
I would pray for a cloud as  
I wrapped you in me,  
and laugh when the sky showed temperance.  
 
Written by Betty
Published | Edited 14th May 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 20 reading list entries 3
comments 29 reads 1496
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
POETRY
Today 11:25pm by Abracadabra
COMPETITIONS
Today 11:01pm by Ljdynamic
SPEAKEASY
Today 10:59pm by Mstrmnd1923
COMPETITIONS
Today 10:56pm by adagio
COMPETITIONS
Today 10:02pm by WillowsWhimsies
SPEAKEASY
Today 9:51pm by Rew