Locked and I Like it.

The “Face on Mars” was one of the most strikin...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You stood so near
heat of your body
prickling my skin
indelibly imprinting
your mystery on me
etched into every cell
making you into my
every looping thought
so your face
your lips
your eyes
infinitely appear
within my mind
so your face
your hair
your smile
are what I see
everywhere I look
so your face
your smell
your touch
are all I dream
when I fall asleep
so your face
your voice
your body
are all I really want
to see and hear and touch.

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17 responses to “Locked and I Like it.

  1. Wow – You are amazingly wonderful! Beatiful! Blessings, Suzie

    • Thank you – I wrote this one and went: wow! Where the heck did that come from? Sometimes the words just arrange themselves! It came out with its own heart-beat inside…

  2. All you need to do is present that poem to some lucky lady and she’ll be all yours.

  3. yep that easy.. I agree with the wise wise Madame Weebles :)

  4. You have a typo here: “so you face”

    This is my favorite part:
    “indelibly imprinting
    your mystery on me”

  5. Nice. In a way, I’m not surprised it wrote itself. Like a good chess game plays itself, marching the pieces in unison across the board, without any effort from the usually-struggling-in-thought un-master. That’s reflecting my experience as a chess player; I have no idea what your usual writing process is like. But you do seem to suggest that the words coming out all by themselves is unusual. Ahem.

    I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, but I do know how to make a kazoo out of an empty toilet-paper tube. We all know that kazoos & cardboard tubes are inherently romantic each in their own way, but put together they’re dynamite!

    Your other commenters may offer more solid advice, but you can count on me for the unpredictable. Aren’t babes supposed to like spontaneity? (-;

  6. (I read most of your stuff, but often a month’s worth at a time, so I don’t bother to leave 30 comments at once. But tonight I’m exhausted from pounding nails all day, and feeling a bit silly. Kindly excuse me.)

  7. Wow. But you know, having a different picture with this poem would give it a totally different vibe. As it is, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. Like maybe you have Stockholm Syndrome for your alien captors.

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