Monday, November 18, 2013

To her

What a fecund and glorious yesterday 
I will wake up to tomorrow!
Full of the living, breathing, teething, 
mesmerizing, rehabilitating  memory
of what life brought us today.
I am terrified of the reality that we now live in 
but I am willing to fight against 
every drunken urge 
that they throw our way.
This will not be easy
and it shouldn't be.

When I said you are a type of magic
I meant that you are truth.
The kind of truth that leaves little 
memories around town,
on my clothes
in my beard
against my skin
wrapped around a finger
in my subconscious.
I am still finding your hair everywhere.
I have grown accustomed to it,
but it still surprises me.
It still scares me.
I am raving mad.
I am drunk but I have not touched a drop of alcohol.
I am a wolf dressed in sheep's clothing.
I am drunk with thoughts of you.
You are eyes, ears, mouth, legs, breasts,
freckles, hope, stomach, flesh, blood, 
whispers, dreams, a fantastic ass, 
passion, a midnight tremble, the space between words
in my favorite book, the loud silence
I hear when the world is quiet, a forgotten
goddess, a moment of peace, a fierce wind,
an answered prayer, magic.

You are a type of magic
which bursts with the beauty
of a thousand pregnant suns!
Yearning for desire, passion, knowledge,
sex, flesh, lust, love, a fuck that will leave you
exhausted and sleeping for a couple of nights,
until you wake up,
kiss me again,
and whisper at me with your eyes.

I am left hollow just imagining
what you taste like,
what you feel like,
what you look like,
what you dream of,
what you want out of this,
& what you keep from me
in between smiles and laughter.Don't hold you tongue.
Give in to your bursts!
For heaven's sake,

burst! 


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