Sunrise

41462909

Beating heart
trembling fingers
voices argue in his head;
he shivers quietly.

Dancing thoughts,
self-indulgence.
No escape
until sunrise.

Advertisements

Random Update No. 3

update_3

Hello, amazing readers.

How are you? How’s life? Good, maybe great, I hope.

Time for another round of page updates (I make it sound like I am famous or something). But, I like to keep my readers in the know. As per my last update, I wanted to continue posting more poetry at least once a week (insert check mark) and work on long-form creative pieces, as well (don’t insert check mark).

Moving on forward,

I decided to focus on my poetry writing, on my same one-per-week basis (putting the long-form pieces on the side, for now). Also, I wanted to give a heads-up to my readers that I may miss a month of posts here or there, but that is because I’m trying to save up some pieces for my next batch of weekly postings.

So if you need more of me in your life, away from this site, add me on Twitter (here), Instagram (here), or e-mail me at vinnylanni23@yahoo.com to keep in touch. I always love to chat and connect with you, beautiful people.

I’m always open to feedback good and bad or just a stop-by hello. Thank you guys and girls for being you and following along with me and (hopefully) enjoying everything that I have posted up to this point and into the future.

Bye!

Body Paint

 

049ca7457c89fac513ecca787f28cffa
Credit: Matthew Scherfenberg

I dip my finger into a coat of light blue,
color you like an April spring sky;
kiss your cheeks softly, turn them into
a faint shade of pink, the same
shaded color on your lips.

Following the curves of your body
down to the floor, I slowly stroke
a color of red-orange along your thighs,

and before we finish, I sit back and stare
at my fine artwork. I wash my canvas off in water,
watch the running colors puddle beneath you
as I admire your untouched immaculate beauty

 

She Goes

girlwhitedress
Credit: Monika Luniak

She dresses in see-through.
She’s opaque and clarity, fiction and reality;
she’s perfection.

She would never look my way.
She knows my flaws; I know she knows.
I can’t compliment her the way she deserves it.
I best express my spoken words
in creative, nonsensical poetry.

Before she walks away,
maybe I’ll keep my
ten seconds of doubt

I’ll approach her,
tell her she’s beautiful,
grab her by the hand,
put my finger on her lips
before she can respond.

All before she goes,
I go, and my illusory mind
wanders off, again.