I wait for your mouth as one waits for rain (and other solitary musings)

The body is a portal.

Your hair is a web. Your eyes are wells. Your neck is a ravine. Your kneecaps are space shuttles. You are lovelier each day and it continues to defeat me. You are my container and my restlessness. You are why I wait and why I can’t. You are the moment, the immediate, the right now. Also the pause before and sigh after.

The marvel, the complexity, the immensity of you conquers and overwhelms even the most mundane chore. For instance, the act of washing my hands is now your territory. Running fingers through my own hair falls, apparently, under your purview. Did you know?

Sitting alone and watching the sun dance with leaves is a moment that asks for you to be present; my solitary happiness. My happiness is a hatching egg beneath my breast. My happiness is a slow dawn. My happiness is the beep of your message in the dead of night

I would unbraid your plait. Undo your ribbons, unclasp your buckles, pull apart your strings. I would unhook your bodice and loosen your hair. In your undress, in your vulnerability, you are my greatest ruin.

I am the black to your white. The dusk to your dawn, the wet to your dry, the heat to your coolness, the outside of your inside, the physical of your spiritual, the earth of your space, the roots, the mud, the soil of your sky.

I will show you your other side if you will show me mine.

6 Comments Add yours

Love, Miffalicious. says:

November 21, 2012 at 12:48

What kind of a love it must have been for you to write like this. I’m in awe, of your words, and of the depth of your emotion.

Love, Miffalicious. [www.miffalicious.com]

LikeLike

mentalexotica says:

November 21, 2012 at 12:59

Not been. Is.

LikeLike

Reply

Winter Song says:

November 21, 2012 at 13:06

Whoa! Each word you write resonates with something so deep within me. Very few amongst us love with this abandon,passion and ferocity. Even fewer are able to ink this love down the way you do. Sublime!!

LikeLike