Crush

here's an old poem about a girl i had a crush on

Flame

She was at the party tonight
A crowded evening in a friend's backyard
A sea of separate words
Foaming together
But I noticed only her
She was absolutely beautiful
She possessed a different kind of beauty
She was a fire-spinner
Her specialty was a flaming hula hoop
I was transfixed on the flickering light circling around her perfect body
Every single curve of her fragile frame
Twisting in a separate order
Her thin arms weaving up and down throughout the orange flames
Her feet touching with the gravel beneath them
So delicately only her toes touched the ground
I was enamored but cautious to get close
So as not to get burned

Erotic

Body Hymn

Your bones breathe,
expanding,
inhaling each diminutive pore on my
skin.
Contracting,
exhaling every individual cell of my
skin.

Our clavicles meet and
clash
together, and our hips are
conjoined
together, welded as if iron.

The segregated digits of my
knuckles
bend and give way,
molding
beneath you.

My hands,
your anchors,
weigh you,
unable to drift from me.

Every last
sinew
of every last
muscle
reaches out,
capturing the tendons
buried beneath my
skin,

and we sing
together.

Beauty

Beauty Fades

Beauty is age,
pious and loving.

An old woman's hands,
folding in on themselves,

wrinkles on parchment paper skin,
crevasses cutting through freckled pores.

Gnarled fingers pressed,
dried petals on a withered rose,

extended from frail arms.
Fragile bones

move with fragile grace,
locked away

from all eyes save
God's.