sensory overload

there's a world of colors
in each eyelash flick
wisps like whips crashing
against sounds as live
as branches snapping in cold
brittle ice storms or as ice
cracking when dropped in warm
water. I adore you in warm clothes
sweltering in your moment
of incremental expansion.

skin cannot be molded as such
I carry such weight and certainly you
must know how red you've turned.

focus on skylines. center
on those bisecting planes
where realities come apart
and come together.

no moment lasts as long
as when rain falls in the distance
diffusing the planes
into one memory stored in the deep
recesses of the tongue. the mixture
of horizons screams in all flavors
and settles as a hint of peach blossoms
simmering smells out with each breath.

you can smell my memories
percolating together. we taste
each other's memories faintly
as we blink in hurried flurries
gazing upon each other's pasts.

this kind of intimacy is subtle
and tends to transform into a strange
alienated familiarity. we both know
there is much more than those faint
flavors swirling in our senses.

it ends up feeling like a gluttonous
feast everytime you blink sharply
spliting splintered scents unto
my tactile salacious senses.

you end up drowned by the taste
of trickling blood churned
in red smiles from a sharply
bitten tongue.

in fact, the onslaught ends simply
with a carefully crafted expression
diplomatically contained. it hints slightly
to the sexual exchange spinning about us.