Midnight Muse
The way she sticks her tongue out, building paper planes out of colored pages. The way her hair slips past her messy bun in easy curls as she paints the sunset in colours pink, blue and purple.
From the click of her tongue when she messes the lyrics of her favourite song to the million kisses she plants behind your ears. Whispering words calming your heart in just over a
second.
The little hum resting playfully on her lips as she tries to salvage the pancakes burnt beyond repair. The little giggles and laughs, mounting whenever my fingers caresses the sweet spot behind her neck.
Those arms and those thighs, the colour of warm caramel. Her comfortable tummy squeezed behind those unforgiving jeans. Everything trivial, seems to me so precious and sweet, for wait, she smells like lavender and whiskey neat.
I fill my walls with her pictures caught in black and white and stack the shelves with old books of her like. I write poems about her seductive touch, driving me insane with every passing minute or such.
She’s a goddess in disguise, wrapped inside the skin of a girl so whimsical. All I ever want, is to dive inside those brown eyes reminding me of enchanting forest pools and into the oblivion, never to return again.
