12 o' Clock Brandy

It's noon now, 12 o' clock noontime

Drunk on blackberry flavored brandy

Warms the blood

Writing to you about all the things I never told you

Hadn't said aloud

About how I never left those nights when I said I closed the door

Instead, I circled your driveway a thousand times

Maybe a million times, depending on the mood

Too many rotations to count on chapped fingertips

I couldn't tell you then, but I'll tell you now about how

I never want to leave your side

Such a burning desire, from the rawness of the soul

The need to be in the center of your world

Warmth radiating from such a strong embrace

Two souls drinking merlot wine and spiced rums until the midnight hour

Those words, oh those declarations

I love you, I miss you, I need you

And the infamous I can't wait to be inside of you

Your eyes are so beautiful, blue and magical

I need to sleep now, dream my mind's unrest in a silken paradise

Under those covers all too soft, angelic in the moonlight

Beneath those baby blue bed sheets I bought for you

This past Christmas, you know

The ones you never use

Hey you, I saw your soft brown hair, your warm brown eyes

I saw you through the window pane

I saw you working hard at your papers, the inconvenient disruptors

Of Eden's garden, the empty promises

Here I stand, my hands shaking, trembling in insanity

Gazing in from the outside wind

The bitter chill of a hard winter's night

My pitiful bones reaching up to your window pane

Stroking the freezing glass frosty with frozen rain

Wishing secretly to myself that I could stroke

Your espresso-shaded hair, so delicate the strands are in those

Secluded moments shared by only two, no one else admitted

When we are the world and no one else is let inside

If I could just kneel behind you in the passion of the night

I would whisper in your ears; look into your caramel eyes

So beautiful to me, the world encrusted in your pigment

The vast oceans, the city lights, the riverbanks

With the slight shade of green on their rims

God-coated corneas

Like trees rustling in the breeze on a Friday afternoon

Along the Jersey shore

When will I see you again?

Not tomorrow nor the day following nor the day thereafter

Perhaps the day thereafter, but how highly unlikely

Tell me if you have a moment or two to spare those

Wine soaked, lazy, genuine afternoons reserved especially for lovers

Where all that exists

Is our own self-indulgent smiles and warm caresses

When all the world's trifles seem to exist no longer

The spinning never affecting our small breakfasts

And stirs in the nighttime

Honey, let me in those doors, momentarily out of business

Just call me, tell me all those memories you've told me before

I will be here waiting, circling your paved driveway

Until you are ready to let me inside