Cinema Vérité
You are a Molotov cocktail sunset,
shattering stained glass windows.
Your light radiates brilliant color over my world.
Let’s never repent the impassioned sins we’ve committed.
Like riders breaking free from French mountains,
we are blood-pumped and making up for lost time.
I will climb your blameless ridges,
and ride your rolling body to victory.
I am moonlight on your midnight harbor.
Let me delight your hull with dazzling reflection,
a beacon navigating precarious dead reckoning,
risking all to taste you with my saltwater tongue.
My elevator eyes move up and down you,
stopping on every floor.
Dripping your body into my mouth,
I want to see where your desire lives and set it ablaze.
I am pouring your infallible essence into crystal glasses,
running wet fingers over delicate rims to hear your song.
Stare passion-fire eyes into my gunpowder soul
and watch how my love explodes for you.
Your lips are lust laboratory amphetamines.
Scientifically concocted pills for love stunned patients.
You course through my veins, fueling my race car heart.
I now know all others were placebos.
You are a skydiving enchantress
and I, your venerating parachute.
Your hands find their way to me,
as your body pulls me into free falling joy.
My nose holds close to your lingering scent,
rendering all motor vehicles undrivable.
You have me punch drunk and intoxicated.
“No Occifer, I’ve only had one true love.”
Our future cinema plays against the silver backing of my eyes vérité,
a discovery shot of unfettered potential.
Supplicant auteurs with Oscar buzz,
“We did our best to articulate what we felt to be honest.”
Put me in the resin of your canvas
and let me lead with my chin.
I want to show you I can be vulnerable
every time you land your kiss on the button.
Your beauty is an oxygen tank
and I am a Boy Scout bonfire.
The longer I write this poem,
the more I want you to breathe it into my mouth.
