Lean

Lean Forward

Lean forward and see the mamillations of my hazel brown iris……. Stare in the deep black of my pupil, the home of shadows, and my womb of emotions.

Lean, just a little bit more and smell the aura of moisturized skin caked by a charming sun on a withered Sunday, forgive the sin of saturdays incense stuck in my pores.

Call me by my name.

Lean a little closer and you will feel my beards tickle the creases on your forehead, scribbling little charms that tickle and trickle into the softest part of you, brittle charms and the warriors muse.   

Lean till you hear my fading whimpering breath swirl and whistle over your helix, concha and your tragus.

A little bit more and you feel the weight of my presence; my heart reaching out in thuds, caged lung stomping, spastic diaphragms writhing.

Lean till our world fades. Lean till that day when we never see again.

Lean.