Damed loving

If ever you knew the village of the damned,
tonight was the night you pushed out the boat,
And smoked
And was way above kind folk
And were scared by us people,
us damn joke.

The lines you lay for us, that weave, a magic unseen, a truth; believed, a life not actually understanding home, or more so; pitying.

If you ever knew our place and space; I suppose pace and at that,
face,
then you to I, as I to you; a picture of drooling hate, or maybe fun?
You would turn to help me battle ignorance on our travels
but the face was that of a twat.

A twat that hid behind the worst shadows, of a dog cowering in the background,
or perhaps it was just how you were sat.
This is disintegrating, this us, this we, this thin sheet of us licking lips,where when kissed I’d pull at your;
hips.

You were loose in my gaze and arm and body to collide with an impact of lust or love but something where we needed to kiss, we had to be together, we needed to be one, or better, joined, clasping sweaty palms and concentrating on a sly bite of lip.

I love you hips.