pure

we sit in the newness
of each panting breath,
pulling life from our
lungs.
the room spinning
in our moans,
floating on an
axis too fast to stop.
a cozy hug engulfs
me, your hands...
they piece together
my puzzled body, you
jigsaw me like no one
else can.

futility is welcome, useless
efforts in lust groove
our immature emotions--
we stand in an epic
breakdown of "Give me
this" & "Give me that"
outside, children hop scotch
and freeze tag, unaware of
our wounded souls.

an exception, born
on February 29th, many moons
ago, you grant me the purest
form of love--
draining it from
my heart. there's more to you
than your wild stare
and sickening speech--
I drown in you,
such a deep end,
such a high tide.
no longer current.

©Tremaine L. Loadholt 15March16

Written by

I’m more than breath & bones, I’m nectar in waiting — Owner ACG •Editor PSILY •Writing for the cosmos. •https://acorneredgurl.com

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