lunesque | Night is the moment of conception

krysis_ and I wrote this together early this morning. It was really fun, I thought. And she's great to write with. *beams*

There are nights when it's just you and I
soft touches and stained skin mirroring the gaze of the charcoal brushed night sky
tinged with the silence of secret grace
[and] the whisper of Us is like the sound of the rain sliding against the glass of our windows

brushed with the caress of fingertips and the pale imprint of a smeared kiss

you are the canvas of my foolish [hopeless] desire

I want to open and make bare, imaging my art onto the curve of your body,
filled with all the symbols [of us]

and how I long to let myself [be yours]
the touch of your fingers and the sound of your breath branding itself across my soul.
[I would give it just to you.]

My lips grazing my language onto your skin
[I want it all] to be the burning marks of history
[kept forever on you]

Lay me out [my heart is open in this
understanding of We]
and I will be your sacrifice if you will be my salvation.

[You don't need me to fly] the wings on your back,
carved from what was hiding beneath your skin.
You can take yourself to salvation.

and my heart pounds, thumping a slow tattoo against the palm of your hand.
[you might have given me wings, but I can't fly without you.]

Where would we go? trailed across the lines my fingertips create down your thigh as I take
[all of this] that you offer

with fingernails scraping gently [against your back {I will follow where you lead} tracing the planes of muscle and skin]
I will offer you [everything] if you'll accept what I [am]

If you will be mine [I will make you everything]

[tonight] it is Us; everything we [are] and everything we [will be]
twisting in endless starlit spirals
[how can we be alone again?]
Yet all gods die, fade into the dreams of what once was.
[yes, this belongs to us, and it will belong to us always]
but when will you fly?
when will you walk?
when will you want to become [more than my everything?]

and how will I know when you are?

Am I a moment?
Or the permanence of stains on your flesh,
carved with brushed caresses the secrets of the art I see [all over you]

and we are one with the inking of our hearts on skin and [in the end]
f o r e v e r
doesn't really matter. At least we have the
n o w.

N o w
with the twilight hues of our magic printed down your legs.
[will you stop me? will you hold back? or will you let me--]
[be everything that I {you} need to be
you will always be part of me]
The layers wash away to the rain [or the tears]
except it can't reach beneath the skin
[are my colors there?]

and more important than any question I have ever asked:
[do you want them to be?]

Y e s whispered across the curve of your knee
because I want to break you open and curl inside the grace of your warmth,
wrap myself in the colors of your passion there
[with just a streak of mine as a stain in your array of shades]

that's all I ever [needed]

Night is the moment of conception

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