bliss.

i wake on sheets
as soft as flower petals,
tulips and tiger lilies
pressed against bare skin
the day tastes like
orange blossom and amaretto,
sunbrushed summer
exploding on my tongue
and there is no waiting for love
see,
i prayed for heaven,
and it was delivered,
all warm skin and familiar eyes
and i
am high on the type of serene
that can’t be found in a bottle,
a moonstruck mellow only found
under midnight silver skies
painted by hands that speak
the language of devotion
and together,
we dance under a rain of poetry,
the clouds spilling sonnets
of two lovers
kissed by an ethereal grace
– ashley jane

A Drowning Burn

I called your touch heaven, loved the way it felt as it shot through my veins.

You were a scorch-light, burn bright type of blaze —

the type of fire that steals your breath

and leaves you drowning in the flames

(I’ll never look at fire the same)