Rhythm and Motion

I stare
At the busy, boring pattern of the velour seat.
So many shades of brown
And not one of them a match
For the beauty of your skin.
I picture you beside me,
Long and lean
Smelling of spice and whiskey cream
I watch your nipple harden
And pucker the seam
Beneath your shirt.

I pause
And we drift into uncertain slumber.
You are no longer mine
Just another stranger.
A fingernail scratches
My upturned wrist
Clenching me tight
Your fingertips twitch,
And though you are distant
Absorbed in the window passing by
Your signal is clear.

Echo
Loudly breathless in an empty carriage.
Scared of their judgement
Their sideways glances.
Your hand caresses
Slipping down between
My knees, my thighs,
Outrageous, obscene
You throw your green
Coat over my caution
Always it seems
I come without trying.

All Rights Reserved, Alicia Fitton 2016

If you liked Rhythm and Motion, read The Calling…

Radio Silence

Airwaves crackle with restless energy
The static of hungry expectation
The length of never stretches on and on…

Waiting,
For the elastic to snap
Waiting,
For you to surge back to me

Beat upon beat of imagined whispers
Time upon moments, radio silence
A heartbeat murmurs, I crave you always

I wait,
And I dream of a phantom
You wait,
and the dream is unending

You said never, but I hear the pin drop
I can hear atoms part as you tumble
Falling towards me, echo resounding

Reaching,
I lean out across eons
Catch me?
And the silence continues.

All Rights Reserved -Alicia Fitton 2016

If you liked this poem, read Run Dry

Insubstantial

There’s a space on the page
A pause and a breath
The length unknown
Forever?
Or just a moment dawning?
A heartbeat gone?
A change felt
From then to this,
From you to us?
The press of air against my back
Substantial and heavy
The silence oppressive
Write what you will
Scribble me out
Again.
Always.
Empty.

All Rights Reserved – Alicia Fitton 2016

If you liked Insubstantial, read Radio Silence

Knowing better, doing it anyway

I am foolish, I’ve come out without my coat.
I am foolish, I’ve come out without my clothes.
The cold wind nips at the tips of my nipples,
Hairs on my skin shiver, quiver in the breeze.

The wisdom of waiting is far from my mind.
The wisdom of watching is far from sublime.
Give me a story, a poem or a glance
I’ll stand here forever, till you return my heart.

All rights reserved, Alicia Fitton 2016

If you liked Knowing Better, doing it anyway, read Reckless

Waiting

Asleep in your arms
I’m a drop in your ocean;
Encompassed, protected,
I love you so much.
Alone in this place
I’m a small piece of driftwood
I wait on the tideline
and miss you like fuck.

The sand feels soothing
Its seductive yet empty
A cold slab of marble
that anchors my soul.
Night falls too quickly
I should go someplace warmer
The wind blows dark patterns
Of sand on my legs.

Memories shift here
We’re dancing together
You hold me so gently
A gift wrapped in joy.
You kiss me goodbye
And return to your old life
Our currents that eddied
Drift back apart.

I’ve lain here for hours
Water lapping around me
The sea sprites cruel laughter
Like grit in my ears.
I know I should move,
but my energy’s long gone,
Wet splashes my shoulders
Spray brushes my lip.

Waves wash right over,
I rise and on turning
The sea is dark, empty
There’s none of you here.
Where are you dreaming?
Are in you the stormclouds?
If I stand here waiting,
Will you know where I am?

All Rights Reserved – Alicia Fitton, 2016

If you liked Waiting, read Dryad