Tuesday, July 6, 2010
how bodies turn into candles lighting up rooms of roses
these warm nights grow knife-like inside this soft body. somber city caving in with desire, drunk as sunday. this kind of night is made for lovers. the tar gone soft beneath stomping feet, running out the madness, staring down the stars like wishes were fighting words, and them up there just burning away, solemn halos of horse-hearted restless love. never beat so loud, these hearts. sweat-slick shirts stuck against the smalls of backs, hands drifting up and down bodies like shifting tides, lips and tongue rising to purpose. this is what mouths were made for. the lingering kisses, more true than a fuck. this is why they invented rooftops, for nights like this, for loves like this, because the city's rumble and the stars pushing their stems of light like brooms and the heavy summer air were meant to mingle and mix and be held and kissed and fucked inside of. light up, you bodies, you candles. light up the rooms of this night full of parking lots and strip malls and strangers. light up.