2 a.m



Let’s worship on the altar of this love

Offer ourselves in passion

and  the curtains of climax shall part.

Repent of ever holding back,

break the fast of my anticipation

in this moment, so pure

at this point so high, so holy

madly intoxicated, breathing nothing but your scent,

feeling nothing but your profile,

break the sanctity of your youth.

If we shall burn tonight,

let it be on this altar. Together.

And if the city burns, we’ll burn without pain

for we have known beautiful flames…

they consumed us like the furnace, seven times hotter

we drowned in the heat.

Confidence, my queen, you’re everything;

the moon, the sun and the stars all echo your beauty

You are my muse tonight, you inspire my writer’s instinct.

Your name rolls off my tongue like a sea of goodness,

and there’s something smooth about the way these words tumble off my heart

looking to meet yours half way

burning, searching, longing

to describe your silhouette

but this fire comes in short busts of cosmic energy

killing all coherency I ever mastered.

I am so consumed, drunk in your presence,

burning, searching, longing…

catch my imagination, don’t let it drift.

-The Lover at 2 a.m

The Lover at 2.jpg




12 thoughts on “2 a.m

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