By Marcus King
I wish I could draw
And capture the awe of your aura
With lines and strokes
The symphony of your symmetry with chords and notes.
I’m left incomplete,
Wanting more like a junkie
You are a mystery of beauty.
My pen would make love.
We’d start at your frontal cortex
The context, the framework
To see how your brain works.
How thoughts fall like dew droplets
Like Cadbury chocolate
Chips on your shoulder.
Let’s run down your nose to the fragrance of falling in love
So flush, so red.
Find me in bed love sick and chasing the trip
From your lips.
I’m an oral artist.
I can’t capture with paint the colour of your life
But with the right words your fineness cannot be denied.
Back to your lips.
Sugar, honey nor cinnamon can’t compare to your kiss.
Your bliss which paints smiles across my face as I reminisce.
Let’s make music with our sighs of satisfaction.
Let’s finger the chords as we entwine our hands
And tie our hearts together.
I don’t want to be freed.
I’m inspired until I’m tired
Until I’m tired thinking about you.
Until my thousand words come through
And we’re left to live.
Let me fall from your neck to your chest
Let me rise again till there’s nothing left
This is more than skin deep
I love all that you’ve given me
But it’s left me hungry. Starved
And satisfied. This paradoxical state where I
Think outside the box to make you free
To know me.
I’ve got cold feet but I don’t fear.
Let’s run from here but we’re not scared.
If I could breathe you in I’d forsake air
I’d reject water to drink from your lips
Until I become strong.
Stronger than the lions trying
To devour you.
Call me David as I shower you
With the war in my blood
And the love in my lungs
And take down Goliath.
A thousand years can’t compare to the one word you’ve left behind
In my mind.