Two things

There are two things that bring me home, he said

Your glistening lips and breakfast in bed.

When you wake up in the morning and walk away from me

Hastily tying your hair up but bodily esprit

The naked spine carrying the night’s battle scars

So much pleasure is a sin so put me behind bars.

You pause to turn your head back to blow me a kiss

What incredible power you have over me, miss

I stroke the sheets and the heat that still lingers

And memories of last night when I put a ring on your finger.

There are two things that bring me home, he said

I become the child again and you bring me breakfast in bed.

Salt scents

tangerine
your whiff that sighs past me and halts for her measure
musk
the hands that bury deep in another's pleasure
mint
that is found lingering at the corner of your lips
aqua
as she touches from your scalp to the hairtips

though I can't smell you
I will keep safe the haze around you from the fog machine
and its odorless glycerine

Marriagerial

I was just thinking...What if someday I meet a guy and find him marriage material, knowing that he doesn't have a gf and is also looking to get hitched but can't 'cause he's not able to meet someone new because of his hectic lifestyle, then talk to my parents and ask them to go and talk to his parents to ask for his hand in marriage?

Even the thought is odd, but not so much when the tables are turned, right?

I might wanna do that! Someday. Fun it will be! (Though scary for potential in-laws)

For now, I must stop obsessing over marriage. Jeez. Talk about getting older.