Wake me up not with
The sultry of your flesh,
Nor the heavy weight of each sunrise.

Wake me up not with the stale breath
From the night before,
Nor with stress drenched upon me.

Wake me up with every grace of your touch
No seconds wasted.
Wake me as your thoughts press against
The flat screen of my mind.

Wake me with the curves of your contour,
As it carves into my subconscious.
Wake me with the sip of your essence,
That flows through every pore and vein-
With ink that stains my skin.

Wake me with your alphabetical soup
That spills from your mind,
So I can savor every vowel and letter
As my last supper.

You are the crime
I am bound to commit.

Words off your tongue
Drown me in ecstasy.
Tantalizing is the gift of your voice.
The tool to project your 2-D thoughts aloud
Quenching my thirst—
Having me slurp the last drop through a straw.

Wake me with every consonant you make.
Engulf me until I reach my peak,
In hope I shall not brake.


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