We are people who run too fast,
Run fast into the arms of strangers,
And leap before we know we'll be caught.
We put our hearts in fragile hands,
The brittle earth shaking beneath their feet.
But we run and we jump and we throw,
As though it's the last redemption.
Redemption from what though?
Redemption for enjoying the throws of passion,
For craving the texture of moist, cracked lips
On bare skin,
In and out of where my crevices begin.
Redemption for being inlove with making love,
So that even when we're fucking,
We're making love.
Because people like us need redemption.
Redemption for loving too much.
Redemption for making love, and making life
Especially when the intention is neither.
So we run too fast,
Run, jump and throw
To redeem ourselves.
May 2, 2015, 10:31am