"4 2 12"

"4 2 12"

You look delicious in teal
but it feels real
when you wear those black jeans.
Calling back fiends to the fix
with a hip switch.
I've an itch
that is more of an urge
to purge this distance between us.
Who's never seen us in action?
Passion apparent
like lack of a parent
ensuing child's play
on a much more deliberate level.
Polished my bezel before checking the time.
I find you're too far away.
Hard to play when
separated by confines.
Concubine misses mistress.
Distressed over distortion in portions
I hoped would never surface.
Purposely shouting you out
amid the whispers.
Gift of gossip we give
just to soothe their palate.
According to their average,
we've had our fair share of indecency.
Secrets shared by the lurkers
we identify as coworkers.
Further from a truth
that I wish wasn't a lie.
Goodbye for today
but take your time walking away
in those black jeans.

The black means so much unspoken.
Chosen among the myriad of names
I would ravage and maim
for their enjoyment.

Appeal in teal
for something more to reveal.
Concealed the clues hardly.
Alarming how obvious this risk is.

Vicious vamp,
they can't hold the lamp
or light the wick.

If I be encamped,
I'd be sure to stamp
until it sticks.

You make me sick.
You get me well.
You give me hell.

You make me swell.
I'd show and tell
if you never tell.

Yes.
This is real.

 















Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"(In){Her}[Vision]"

“(In){Her}[Vision]"

Felt the weather blow in.
Not that I was searching
but I couldn't find the sew-in.
Saw her around the way before
but I don't really know when
I started paying so much
attention to where she's going.
Straight hair,
bright skin
and dark leather fit to her frame.
I would offer no disclosure
of her first name.
It was never just "Hi"
whenever she would pass by.
She sought to pique my interest.
Maybe even test my limits.
She would pay close attention
to every slight grin or grimace.
She was as timeless as the warmth
of the furnace in December.
Still in all, much recalled
was more than I'd like to remember. 

Beginner's conversing
worth rehearsing in the mind
quickly replaced in taste
by what musings she would find
worth the time to peel back.
Drawing near just to peer
before placing the seal back
and I'm enamored by the annoyance.
Her clairvoyance confirms as much.
Welcome distraction from the traction
of this daily race
I've yet to find my pace with.

Blinks
before waves
before speaking
weaving well
into handshakes
and meetings
where general fond greetings
become hugs
and warm embraces
where we barely touch faces.

Each invitation mulled over.
Not sure if coming over
would mean that I'd eventually
have to come inside.
Recalled her jokingly saying
that if I don't pull out,
I wouldn't get the chance to.
I guess it's funny
when I think of what the hands do
unprovoked even.
Fascination broke even
with her opinion of society
from impropriety
to advancement.
Rather cautious glance with
subtle questions used
to guage participation.
Emulation isn't her Forte.
She uses information as foreplay
for the eager palate
and I would eat it bland or seasoned.

Reasoned with like chemicals.
More freelance than clerical.
Hysterical the amount of labor
some would fake to gain her favor
as if she couldn't see through it all.
I'd imagine men sprawling
calling
crawling
falling over each other
just to reach out as she hovers.
Makes me wonder what I've ransomed
for this much of her attention.
Talkative as I am perceived,
I've made more time to listen
and we've been at it for months now.

The sleeves are shorter
and the leaves don't blow.
The apprehensive mind
converts to "Please. Don't go."
and "I'll be back a little later."
Couldn't have made her
more fascinating if I dared to try.
Once cared more for why
but now I'm here for more.
To explore her uncertainty
and tap into that yearning...
...well worth learning
how to earn this much..
In her touch lies conviction.
When the lies are tradition,
She would not hide the friction
and that's hard to see.
Love is time. Not commission.
Lack of time is contradiction
because the promise of her vision
is why I wait
and watch
and listen.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Winter Vines"

"Winter Vines" 

I'd say you taste rich
like the best form of filthy
where guilty denied less
and desired so much more.
This floor ice cold
for the disrobed
disabling any real reason
to elude these covers. 

My mind hovers
slightly
under thoughts of what it might
be like if it grazed my tongue.
Frustratingly fun to consider
between shiver
and cold sweat.
I'd bet then wonder
then gather my assumptions
with a certain degree of gumption 

but I haven't asked yet.
That much I regret.

Took my favorite flavors
with intent to brush your skin
where it mingles with the meat of you.
Completely knew the method
but still lacked any true record
of your interest in the same.

Felt your name
roll off my bottom lip
the last time I came
and sent my joints into contusion.
Thoughts deliciously wrapped in confusion
as I unwind in my lost mind
and my down time
and it felt fine.

Drawn red as pomegranate crushed against ruby
over the possibility that still eludes me.
Lust easier to see
with every blink of the eye.
Drawn high in my ambition to reach low.
A hopeful yes for each potential no
that has never reached conversing.
Hurting to see
what would become of we
if you give in with me.

Secrecy the salve
that rubs in fast
but evaporates slowly.
The one with the lights
knowing me better in the darkness.
Thought this so far from formal
but even normal has no true format.

Not anymore, at least.

Have your seat.
Let me feast.
Release the secrets
that have served you well in seasoning.
Reasoning forsaken
awakening independence from the sensible.
This is critical.
No pressure, though.
Pleasure pairs well with the inquisitive mind.
Maturity in every tone.
An appetite alone
will grow until consoled
and control is just a grip away.
Part the lips this day
that I might say I've guessed right.
 
 Don't tell me what you taste like.

I'll find out on my own........

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Urges"

"Urges"

How long has your illness endured?
Thought for sure that you were cured
but the limits haven’t been tested,
stretched,
pushed
or even reached yet. 

Falsely pushing forward
to force the mind to forget
but the heart would regret that loss.
Tossed most of the thoughts away
like leaves swept into the bay
but today is as long as ever.
The strongest weather ensues
and the clues will surface.
Time will draw you in
regardless of your purpose
So think fast
if you truly wish to look past
before you blink.

To sink in feels so good.
Inhaled the aroma.
Seduction stinking somewhat sullen yet savory
thick as gravy
and as cumbersome as thighs.
You loosen with eye contact.
I've contacted you daily since the visit
but no words exchange.
No verbiage in range
Which is honestly a rarity.
The charity of the absent mind
to fall behind
what was a recent occurrence
looks to challenge the endurance
of the heart that will never accept regret. 

Are you cured yet?
Tried the sedatives? 

Habits repetitive
we use to replace
the moments felt in that embrace
as if the face would ever flush
like that again. 

Foolish, my friend. 

Power that bold
cannot be controlled
yet you are sold
solely to the notion
that this is a stain to wipe away.
I would like to say
but the obvious has the floor.
Slam and shut it out
but the keys that unlock the door
are only wishes away.
Stand still or get away.
That still won't change today
and the lust you dress as sorrow
will present itself tomorrow
fully furnished and adorned
in the tries and lies you've worn
to disconnect you from a want
that you pretend is not a need. 

Spilling of seeds
that don't hit the floor.
Shuffling of feet
that have left the shore
for the porch
and the doorbell.
You know Hell is full
of the pain you've put yourself through
in doubt of your desire
and even that fire
cannot consume the truth
that this fruit is only forbidden
for as long as it is hidden begrudgingly
so don't think that suddenly
is not forever.
Together we receive reprieve
in our deliberate relief
of a mutual struggle
where the tussle only serves
to fully ripen the nerves
around muscles erect and curved
ready to surge without atonement. 

Give me a moment.... 






























Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"To Drown"

"To Drown"

Submersion.
Dispersion of vital signs
splattered and scattered between ripples.
Crippling to recall the impact.
Intact barely.
Spared me no manner of forewarning.
Upon breach,
my free falling briefly becomes drift.
Why won't his angels
lift me up to the heavens already? 

I wasn't hard to see.
It's getting hard to see.
I'm working hard to breathe.
Losing the life I need.
Should my life be retrieved,
however,
I'd not think it much better
than this current state of affairs. 

Bogged down.
Tied down
by my limbs and my hair
unfair to unbalanced weight.
Comparing this slate
to that of the one placed upon my shoulders.
Holder of predicaments
hardly fit for low endurance
complete with the policy
and enough insurance
to ensure a profitable departure. 

Loathsome archer in his accuracy
practicing the kill shot.
Wrought iron still hot
as it stands still in the heart. 

Torn completely apart
From the possibility
that my probability of survival
could ever be truly favorable.
Choking it back as I sink.
It hurts when I blink
as a think of the gasp
that it would've taken to save me.
Love gave me some reasons.
Life just chimed in conviction.
Prescription of plague
I have sought to wash away
for years on end.
Even now,
my means aren't justified. 

Meant to hide beneath
but forgot that I can't speak
amid such deep cover.
Lover of the mist
whose wrists
are further from the shore
than initially anticipated.
Elated over refreshment
but the crash was unexpected
and I now suffer alone.
Made home in the futility.
Humility always catches up
abruptly
with something
to illuminate my bad ideas. 

Hoped that I would float
but the dead weight
obeys the law to the letter.
Thought better of the drive.
March of the parched.
I was desperate and thirsty
and now have more than I can swallow.
Vessel once hollow
has exceeded the brim quickly.
When I surface,
fix me
with the most delicate of laurels
but speak not of the misery
nor the victory I've failed to breach.
A life celebrated in lies
is one that can't be used to teach

So here I reach
but its too late to latch on.
Left you little evidence.
You always managed to catch on
before the scheme was complete.
No more flail in my feet.
Just my last thoughts discreetly shared
between my fading consciousness
and my fondest thought of you. 

Such a beautiful deep blue... 

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz