10.45 pm, Shots of whiskey still holding me hostage I crave, Crave for your voice, your hair The desire that glows in your eyes. I hunger, I hunger for your touch The warmth of your belly laying along mine, glued together Something magical. I starve, Starve for moments that I go transparent, light-headed Sleepwalking to the rhythm of your voice Breathes catch, mouths aligned Sometimes it feels like paradise. I want to do with you what the wind does with the palm trees Kiss you up and down your thighs with words, Sending tingles to the center of you Shaking at the touch of my fresh flesh Such that when the end of the world comes, so will you. With just my pen. Drunk me,
