The Desire Of Statues
I hear you cracking our ice to release the essential oils of women's dreams. Mist kissed lips harness at the curve of our backs. You are like an explosion of static stars that punched holes in the sky. We peer though them, but the wall prevents the touch we so desire. Men like you are snippers trained to kill from a distance. We stand with our arms outstretched - frozen in place like statues when their hands get filled with snow. Echoes ache in the ears. Soundless sounds release from our mouths that crave to breathe you.