Saturday, March 12, 2005

Couldn't Care Less

The sweet moves of skin. Satin misses it. Silk enjoys its touch.
Hard thoughts drift away, grasping for a hold on a façade of slick passion.
Self worth and self-defiance fail to present a dedicated argument and no amount of pride can muster a unified front against the simple, obvious and true need of lust.
Flesh. Lips. Hands.
In In In.
Sliding. Kisses. Tongue.
Now.
Go on. Try to get angry. Sure.
Know you are leaving. Sure.
It is soooo over. Sure it is.
Tell yourself another story.
Then she smiles.
You hate her for it.
But you want.
To want is to feel.
To feel is rare.
That which is rare that is valuable.
So valuable.
Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.
Just be looking for and ducking that punch line.
It is cool to be happy, but better to have to earn, fight and take that happiness.
Nothing is better than trying.
Nothing is better than touch.

5 Comments:

Blogger Joy said...

Beautiful!~ Its nice to be born with, or handed happiness. But its much more satisfying to fight for it, and win. :)

March 12, 2005 at 3:53 PM  
Blogger De.vile said...

amen joy

March 13, 2005 at 2:25 AM  
Blogger De.vile said...

yip, so true, stuff u never fight for are neva appreciated.

March 13, 2005 at 2:27 AM  
Blogger jadedprimadonna said...

So very true! Beautiful poem!

March 13, 2005 at 5:42 PM  
Blogger Thirza said...

Love this one ... I could almost touch it ...

My fight hasn't even begun ... I'm still looking for a worthy opponent ... but I keep on trying ;-)

March 13, 2005 at 7:32 PM  

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