his velvet touch

i play in this and that, then and now, past and present
sometimes there are moments i’d rather not miss
i love you – but not now, not then and not ever again
but i do promise that i don’t regret

i listen to the silence of the night
sit back, grasp a pillow tight and call forth the light
grind my teeth with might and reminisce with time
i roll my eyes, but if only i could stick a needle

i feel and it’s soft and strung with madness that feels like velvet
feels like heaven and burns like hell
i welcome the felon, his selfish and seven without an edit
tastes like magic and his touch makes me helpless

i pick the petal and everything turns yellow
the rhythm flows — he feels like elvis
his engine makes me melt and he can’t even tell
never knew the gentle touch of perfect would hurt him

he laughs with neglect and his eyes project
but the accent of perplex could never exit
the direction never changed as i stood with grace
always in range, forever remember the day
the way sadness graced his face on that hot summer day
as we walked the boardwalk near venice way

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