Smile so big it hides your eyes,
soft skin I’d love to taste,
Dark hair wild and spread across
the gray cotton pillowcase.
Upside down, the laughter thins,
your eyes become the view,
hair pulled back behind your head,
another angle into you.
Through the tilt, the world goes still,
a hush where hunger haunts,
lying there half-penitent,
between your needs and wants.
Want becomes the honest thing,
not hunger dressed as grace,
to make you smile with seriousness,
then memorize your face.
“Want becomes the honest thing, not hunger dressed as grace.” That line gives the poem its real depth for me. Beneath the sensuality there’s an unusual tenderness here, a feeling of attention rather than possession.
🔥