To the sweet girl who quietly
maintains the chaos of my soul,
to her candied lips of white chocolate cherry,
the rum filling of her tongue,
to the whipped cream softness of her navel
and the down of her small arms,
to her glittering soul,
ethereal like a kite released to storm:
tossing wildly and red in the rain,
I need you more than you know,
I was a lifeboat set out to sink,
an inkwell barely balanced over carpet,
on a tipping point between creation
and loss of control over each sobbing wave,
near to writhing on the ground with the realization
of what true loneliness is or has the intensity of
when it rips into you like a weed whacker;
With you, I am an open field unburdened
by a lot license, I am free of earthly ownership rights
and we, you and I, are not weeds,
we are natural floral arrangements of the earth.
We throw the Heroes of fear to the
shedding of our petals and live with stamen and pistil
out, with leaves only soaking to sweeten the sun of ourselves
into something nourishing.
Be the cloth that keeps my leaks away,
that keeps the bay at bay
Hold me tightly like our organs could be one and
press until the two halves of us have transformed into a cartoon heart,
let the collective molecular structure of us
be too close to be defined as solid,
let it be something more than two,
let us become one.
Reblogged this on Let it come from the heart and commented:
I love the fantastic, desperate imagery in this poem.
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