[ my. heart. wants. ]

[ my. heart. wants. ]

my sinking skin
wearing weather thin
the beat so narrow
in the lines we are in

heart refuses to rush
yet everytime you are near
something ever so clear
is the thundering resolve

wants, all we have
we are wants only
in the works
in the turn of lonely phrases
your kisses seal
upon my cheekbones

© Bryan McLean March 26, 2010
001/100:2