Lust is like that warm orange singlet top that makes me feel great,
I wear it during times I feel bold or wish to have some fun at my own stake,
Its quite new, still has that ambiguous David off cool water smell,
But love is that rouge pink tshirt of mine, which makes me feel cozy and warm,
I wear it on stormy days and wintry nights, it has accompanied me since the past 3 years,
No matter much I wash it away, it still makes me feel safe.
I am no master in love, I’d say, havent experienced it at all,
But lust? The desireful eyes, those oh so perfect smiles, my poetries revolve around those tales.
Maybe lust is what we confuse for love nowadays,
Their glistening eyes seem lovely to you,you’d catch them checking you out, they smile off and find different ways to accidentally touch you,
They’d tease you and make you laugh, their jokes would be so funny you’d laugh your eyes out, you’ve never felt this happy ever in life,
The way the talk the way he folds his arms together and gently frowns, the way he runs his fingers alongside his hair would make the butterflies in your stomach reach ashore,
His presence would make your day, you’d ache to be in his arms and wish to kiss him once again, you’d plan your next meet, the things you’d say, the things he’d end up doing,oh, everything should be perfect that way, for our adonis is just that way.
You’d fnd different ways to text him, ( or accidentally text him or call him either ways) send him memes, flood him with questions new, would expectt his attention right away, what if he forgets to text you day? Was he busy? Is he seeing someone new today? Let’s stalk him on insta or maybe snapchat today??
And every time you’d meet them, you’d feel jittery, it would be the first time again, you’d feel jittery, you’d get dumbfounded, act nervously and fumble on your own words,
For hey, they seem so perfect( to you) dont they?
Could they be the one?
To the incomplete feelings of mine,