Would it be so strange to say that I am fatigued without you?
my sight blurred,
my fingers senseless
when you are away.
And so it seems I'm here, on every occasion,
on every evening
between the sewn sheets smelling,
then dreaming of you.
The you I never knew I would care.
The smile that curls and pleases me,
then the lips that speak and tease me.
How strange that I would fall in love.
How strange that I might one day involve myself in the imperfection of love,
the weight of love,
the unsurpassed divinity of love.
I feel you when you are else,
I feel movements and words and simple turns.
I feel you are still in me like you had been before.
Against the red light we laid,
spoke soft sounds that calmed and erased fear, sent comfort. I
could feel you, I could feel you,
I held your fingers tight between mine.
I've loved you generously,
you loved me tenderly.
It is you,
finally you who I feel deeply.
The skin that covers me shivers when you touch,
melts when you breathe--a heat so divine.
You are a sensation unpredictable, that fills me whole.
I am, I am, I am, I am so sick of the potency, I am so blinded by it.
I feel so consumed by feeling, overwhelmingly passionate,
so fucking head over heals in love with you.
+ + +