My muscles twitch this love is raw, and real, right now right here,
i could just fall apart and not care, just to have one last look at you.
You haven’t smiled at me for years, to paint this moment I need to hear, that your heart still speaks to me,
and to feel your wet hair touch my lips.
Every time it rains your colors change, if I take you down, my walls will
face the biggest tragedy
I would bleed my feelings out into a sculpture of your face,
than walk down to the river bank, and with these hands I would dig out
my dirtiest secrets from your underwear.
Your socks and your red colored pants, diamonds and golden flakes,
unthinkable sex crimes and fantasy of you, all that is illegal I want to do,
because this is me, it is who I am,
your wet dream, I want to hear you scream.
Davorin Pasovic
Davorin is a war refugee from Bosnia living in the United States now with their family. They have been writing poetry for about 15 years, and enjoy it very much.