We Were Sacred

Listen to me hum your name in my pleasure and reminisce of the times you became a part of me. Feel the warmth of my lips inside your soul all those times I kissed you dearly until you lost control of your positivity and you radiated joy from your pores. Out of you I coaxed the sweat you worked so hard to keep hidden within the reservoirs of emotions you tried to fit a tight grip on. My smooth legs sat on your chair on the side of town we left behind…back in May while you stared from the doorway as you quietly crawled in through the windows of my soul. My face you held in tough hands laden with the hard work of your fingers. They sewed the tendrils of your livelihood in the shape of pages and numbers. It was those very same hands that held my waist and lifted me up towards the heights unknown to most in the way of tenderness and yet firmness of the touching of strings that only you knew how to play perfectly. The strength of my legs came from the times I went running towards our temple, back again and again, but wait once more. The way you pinned my arms to keep me anchored in your bay toned the muscles I use today that remind you of the days when without me you didn’t exist. I rode the waves of your shores and penetrated your being and pinpointed your sacred places that reverberated the fullness of your lands and shook your structures onto heaven. I kissed the neck of your country and your vines entangled me one last time before all you could ever do was reminisce like memories that make me miss the ingenuity of countries coming together and paving the way for heaven out of hell. Glimmering legs rest on the armchairs of your memories, my hips poised perfectly with my body shaped like mountains and valleys. For my mouth my hands hold my cigar blowing smoke as far as your crumbled temple now your own with a statue of me at the center.

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