To be loved by a poet - 1

I'm crestfallen in the shadows of my raging firecrackers when you're far. I'm embedded in the gaze of your tempting Silicon Valley. Dumbfounded by the cabbage twists and turns of your deceitful twilight eyes. my raspberry! The howl of my desires, and voids of my needs. Sink me in the streets of lavender sins. Your beards have enchanted my thoughts and I can no longer decipher illusions from imagination. The reality of your tender existence is pushing me out of mine, pulling me into your cloves of natural cocaine. You're the hope of my tomorrow, the faith of my today and the suffering of yesterday. I long for your beaded touch and the threads that carve holes in it. I crave for your whiskey eyes. It fills me through the primrose spring. Pats me into the deep cracks of your cemented bed. Let me sniff your breath, let me tell you its colors. Allow me bit the scars of your wounds so I can share its taste with your coal lips and let you know, you can no longer bleed because I'm the final healing. I want to feel the vertical lines on your chest. Inhale the infinite tunes of your gasps. Close my eyes and still see you in crystal bays. Twirl my hands in your hair and reassure you that I will make you live forever. Appreciate your strong nerves for working on my neck and at your desk. To remind you that you didn't feel true emotions your whole life, till you met my flat nyash and its reflections.