Third entry in the journaling game via twitter dated July 21, 2009.
Where the wild things are is where
I am most at home
Dreaming of silky things,
crossing hot thighs.
My lips would have known
enigmas of shadowy vistas, while
the entwining rhymes and gently flowing
turbulent rip tides of my life,
strikes the heart as a silent choir
sings to me of shivers that run along
my spine.
I hear you calling my name
as lightning strikes my lonely heart,
craving your skin makes my tongue
withdraw as I thirst in hunger as
the swollen fire of desire tries to
consume my abyss as I feast on
all you can give.
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