More bad poetry

The Sun
is one thing I would
not want to be.

The Sun
will never consider
how your mouth
feels (meeting mine)
when I kiss you
alone in the dark.

It (naturally a being of lightness)
would never recognize
the beauty of holding you
(laying asleep)
during hours
of darkness.

Upon it
would be lost
the art and sanctity
of studying your face
in dim light.

The Sun
could not comprehend
feeling the aliveness
(so fiercely I wanted to weep)
of seeing
the meaning of life
(unfolding)
among your thighs
by candlelight.

Nor, will the Sun
ever dwell
in the knowledge of
how exquisite
moonlight tastes
shining freshly
on your skin.

To give up
every next day
under the sun
would be a small
price to pay
for living with you
beneath the moon.


- Sublime