deepundergroundpoetry.com
weak
My hands are weak
My eyes can’t see
My mouth won’t speak
My feet stopped carrying me
Thoughts are creeping around
A sweet desire is what I feel
Lips unable to make a sound
A voice whispers; this can’t be real
I’m hungry for your touch
You’re taking me higher
My lips search for your lips
Sweet smoke is rising from desire
It’s not possible to run away
You will find me anyway
My eyes can’t see
My mouth won’t speak
My feet stopped carrying me
Thoughts are creeping around
A sweet desire is what I feel
Lips unable to make a sound
A voice whispers; this can’t be real
I’m hungry for your touch
You’re taking me higher
My lips search for your lips
Sweet smoke is rising from desire
It’s not possible to run away
You will find me anyway
Published 1st Nov 2012
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