Tatooed Heart

A girl with a tatoo on her neck that I liked.

Tattooed Heart

 

Hearts with tattoos

mean there is some one special

in your life.

 

You have a whole list of names.

Your definition of love.

 

I only have one…

 

Your tattooed heart with the

list of names.

Am I one of them?

Did I make the cut?

 

I wonder…

 

What’s really etched on the tablet of my heart?

What do I really care about?

 

Sex?

 …or the emotions behind it.

 

I didn’t want to say

“Oh how I love thee…

…let me cover up my lust

     with literature

            that’s flowery.”

 

…maybe later.

 

I undress myself

to wrap you in words

that seems too frail for me.

They fit you just right.

 

My best silks touch your skin

like I wish I could.

The best woven fabrics

 to keep you warm.

 

Your skin is so…

smooth and clean.

So…

pristine.

 

How dare I think of touching you.

 

 

I didn’t want to say

“Oh how I love thee…

…let me cover up my lust

     with literature

 that’s  flowery.”

 

Because when those words

become heard to much

they become over used.

Redundant.

And such

 

And I wonder,,,

after time

 do they carry the same value?

 

Can I write my name on your heart?

Hoping you keep it there

like the one on your neck.

 

Dark outlines filled

with melanin.

 

The color of your skin.

 

Or cursive and tight

to make it look right.

 

Maybe homemade.

Prick by prick

Bit by bit.

Can you stand the pain

until it looks just right?

 

 

How do I convince you

your lips

are not my soul desire

in mind.

 

Sure…

 

I can tempt myself

with a playful

image of you.

…but…

why do I feel

it’s not about your body or

your looks.

 

Lust…

covered in flowery literature.

 

Euphemisms.

Meant to excite and tantalize.

 

Can I just once say what I feel?

and not pretend I’m holding onto you

thru some fence?

 

I love…

 

….how you express your self,

Profess your self,

Your stance in life.

…your swagger…

 

Can I just admire you from afar?

 

 

Tattooed hearts

like inked up skin

You wear your collar on your neck with the

name of your master close at mind.

 

Obsession once received

becomes submission.

…and I love it.

The savory flavor of

giving in to you.

 

Making me flex muscles that I can’t

simulate.

Causing breathless whispers

and kisses

on your neck.

The neck you

wrote some thing for me to read.

…only it’s somebody else’s name.

 

Like the locket

on your chain.

 

…damn…

...damn…

,,, damn…

………………..

 

 

 

Reviews

[NCPanthersgurl]

Your words manage to be serious and yet humorous, and I love the twist in both =] I think it's wonderful how you portray it in thoughts, for often thoughts are what produce the greatest writing; but the original idea was lost in translation. You wrote in thought, what was coming from your head. Nice work.

[Ruby Moon]

i like how you end it
like you just caught yourself thinking of her
so you are cursing yourself/ the situation
*smile*

"I didn't want to say
"Oh how I love thee�
�let me cover up my lust
with literature
that's flowery.""

"Sure�

I can tempt myself
with a playful
image of you.
�but�
why do I feel
it's not about your body or
your looks."

[Dead Angel]

i really like this poem. very descriptive and i like how you portrayed the feeling in this poem. more than love but less intense than lust. very well written and but together, tattoos have so many meanings to a person and why they got them. well done with this one HAM, very enjoyable. :)

[wizthom]

rarely do i read someone who's write is so good till you can tell,
that they had a hard time of stopping the flow,looks like wizthoim may have met his match..i too feel that one should not stop till there is no more to write,,we are the new breed of writers we do not confirm,,we are leaders making foot steps on virgin snow.peace wiztrhom

[Legion]

I love this. It reminds me of a situation in my life right now. Excellent work.