I do,
I do wonder.
Is it possible to have a love affair that lasts forever?
In my wildest jungle diamond dreams
there would be
THAT love affair,
that lasts forever.
Tea for all seasons, a painted house by the sea,
and him and I, happily kept,
warm, wafer light strewn over our bed faces,
toast trays on laps,
crumbed kisses,
forever and ever,
Amen.
To look into eyes
and spark, on and on and onward beyond.
Cinnamon or cerulean, I care not,
as long as those eyes are true, curtains open,
fluid circuitry.
Oh, I am so tired of secrets in Love. Love always with a capital L.
Top of my list, and friends tell me off for this.
But tell me,
what is life without Love with a capital L.
What is the day, without warm kisses, hands and palms touch and tremble,
breathless comfort,
knowing embrace.
What is the hour for, if you cannot wile some of it away, thinking about the shape of
your mouth
or your eyes.
Whoever you are.
I say to myself sometimes,
yes, he is out there. We just have to pass this time,
learn all our lessons, cry our yards of tears, or not,
bite our lips in succession, until they bleed, and heal
bleed
and heal.
Like our hearts. How many times shall our hearts be broken
before we finally
find one another?
I am hoping he exists.
I hope I realise when we meet.
Of course I will know.
Knees buckle
beneath the weight of combustible chemicals
soaring through my veins.
Eyes will re ignite,
pupils pool
in lamplight, moonlight, sunlight.
Our mornings will find piano keys
tip toe,
our evenings will be casserole thick
with goodness,
hearty
throbbing
beneath the starshrunk sheets
tenting our
teasing stretches
and violent
punch tipsy
peony
kiss.
Oh. I am tired of waiting for all this.
Come to me
I call out
into the muffled dark,
molasses night.
Come to me, with arms of honesty.
I do not need to be saved,
I just need to be
taken.
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