As-Is

As-Is
01/17/19

The treasures of you - pennies in a jar: You teasing me in my hat, the way you rubbed my arm in the car. Your hugs, clinging fingers in my back. Every time I leave, I struggle to not look back. Your hand atop mine on the Blarney Stone, your voice with mine as we sing, your voice fierce and alone, your words and all your meaning. Your kiss ever imagined, real once upon my arm. Playing with my ‘psychic hair’, all the energy and all the alarms. Shakespeare. You call me sexy and like my a*s in my jeans. Your glowing pride at my side. Our laughter at the seams. The realities, the dreams, the everywhere in betweens. Dancing, roping moons. Not-quite-romancing. Your caring in grabbing my inhaler. You checking on me in the restroom. Saving me that last beer; sharing cigarettes to be ever-more near. Tactile. Kisses on my cheek. Excuses to walk me out. Knowing exactly who you are, but not exactly what you are about. Your mind on your face, or steeling it, as I am ever so honest with you. Your sincerity and strength. My sharing. Your eyes as I sleep. Damned Unchained Melody! What you share with me I keep ever safe - scar deep. We are tender, and full of heat. Goddess, oh goddess! Angels, what shall I do? I have been acting out with others on the playground. As it is, I cannot have you!

Reviews

[Chris]

Quite the gestalt... the flow and weave draws one in...