Archive for the 'Lyrical Memories' Category

02
May
17

Indelible

I can

Still

Taste

The tears

That ran down your face

And eventually made their way

To your slender neck,

Where they met

My lips.

I can

Still

Feel

The silent

Sobbing

That made your chest

Rise and fall,

Your breath

Short and heavy,

Until huge gasps

Made your lungs fill

Again.

I can

Still

Remember

How

Your upper lip

Curled

Slightly

To reveal your teeth,

And a playful spirit

The first time

A hug

Lasted

A little too long.

The living photograph,

Etched

Into my memory,

As indelibly

And permanently

As any of my broken bones

Or scars-

Your fingerprints

Tattooed

To my soul.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

May 2, 2017

08
Oct
14

Breathing Sweatily

Music plays

In my ears

As images of you

Dance in my head-

Swaying and moving,

Breathing sweatily,

Your clothes

Clinging

To your body,

And your hair

In clumped strands

Sticking to your face

And slender neck,

As the bass line

Shivers down your spine

To your feet,

Which seem to ignore

Gravity,

To float

Above the floor.

It is

As if

The music

Is making love

To you,

And your movements

Are the climax

Of that embrace,

Each thump

Of bass

Another kiss,

Another touch,

Another whisper

Into your ear

With breathless abandon.

If only

My hands

And arms

Could wrap around you

And hold you,

The way the music

Pulls you in,

For a kiss

That would make you

Dance

Until the next sunrise.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

October 8, 2014

28
Jul
14

She knows

She knows

That

My lips

Ache

For the touch

Of hers,

Pressed softly,

Or fiercely,

Or quietly,

Or hurriedly,

Or inappropriately

Against mine.

She aches

Too,

We both ache

Separately

Together,

From a distance

Both great

And small,

And nonexistent,

But there.

The fingers

That entwine

In the air

That is empty

Without

The other hand

To hold,

And clasp

Tightly-

The fingers

On each of our hands, as they lie limply at our sides, in the dark, searching across the room, and across the distances, for that moment of contact that we are not allowed.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

July 28, 2014

09
Jun
14

More

I need

More

Of you-

On my lips,

On my tongue,

In my nostrils,

In my arms,

Pressed against me,

Shivering in my arms,

Smiling at me,

Biting your bottom lip,

Turning away from me so that I won’t see the thoughts in your eyes and the flush of color in your cheeks.

I need

More

Of you

And I

Together.

I don’t want

Everything,

Just

You.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

June 9, 2014

22
May
14

Listen with me

I want

To lay her

Down

And make love

To her

Sweetly,

Hold her

Tightly

In my arms,

Listening to music,

Getting lost

In the sounds

Of her

Breathing

And the music

Blending together.

I want

To paint her

Naked body

With my words,

Tracing each verse

Of freshly imagined

Emotion

With my fingertips

Across the delicate curves

Of her trembling body,

Covered in goosebumps,

And shivering

With my delicate touch.

I want

To read her

Poetic nudity

With twisted sheets

And tousled hair,

The gentle rising and falling

Of music

And our breaths-

I want her

To listen

With me.

Timothy Vance Jackson

May 22, 2014

28
Apr
14

Just breathe

Just breathe-

Inhale,

Exhale,

Move oxygen

From the lungs,

Into the bloodstream,

Fueling the muscles

And brain.

Breathe,

Relax,

Rest,

Perhaps sleep,

If you’re lucky.

Just breathe

And forget them,

Even if

Only for a moment-

Forget them

And breathe.

They will still be there

Tomorrow,

So

Forget

About them

For tonight,

And listen

To the sound of air rushing into your lungs and slowly exiting between your lips and into the darkness you wish to leave behind.

Just

Breathe.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

April 28, 2014

04
Mar
14

I don’t sleep, I dream

I don’t

Actually

Sleep,

I dream-

Of you,

Of her,

Of us,

Of other dreams

Lost in clouds

Of thought and reality.

The night

Brings

More confusion

Than rest,

More clouds

Than blue skies,

Or starry nights

Wrapped around you

In a sweaty embrace

Of lust

And love,

And the moment

Of quivering

Collapse.

Sleep

Is not

As much of a reward

As breathless dreams,

And it never will be.

Timothy Vance Jackson

March 3, 2014




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