puresauciness

So I am posting a poem today. I scrawled it in a wendy's napkin at like 2:am this morning (like a.m. doesn't mean morning, i hate when people do that!).

It's happening again
what is sleep?....

The line between night and day is a long ago forgotten concept
time is only divisible by moments with you:
-the taste of your smile on my tongue
-the depth of the dimples in your cheek
-the sweep of your hands when you speak--
These are the measures of my life
the clock with its face and hands is purely a cosmetic icon
YOUR face and YOUR hands tell my time
Gestures tick by
Happiness always too quickly spent-then gone
leaving, I am in motion on the highway
but in suspended E-motion
heart beating
soul still...
my soul is still in your arms
smelling your throat
lips on eyelids
as if on pause
spirits bookmarking the moment
until, like hungry suns,
our eyes set on each other
and press play....