Men, women, and persons;
You enigmas of violence, misery, sex, and boredom;
How are you feeling?
To what end is your violence?
To what depth does your misery brood?
What comfort have you found in sex?
What madness does your boredom uproot?
If you're honest, I would guess, every answer, some way, stems from love.
Acknowledge this with me if you expect my intimacy.
We could have a tiny world, a modest one, all to us,
To paint our ideals, our passions, and secret wishes onto.
Caring for each other and nurturing the land
Our children, a family of colors, scents, atmosphere and earth.
We’d till and sow all our own way,
And grow a living dream, transcendent from every angle.
We’ll compose a landscape tuned to the mood of our time together,
Like living music to the moment we’ve adopted.
Seasons and years renew the youth of our creation,
So every day we enjoy new spaces of imagination to occupy together.
This is the world we birth with our own hands and thoughts,
Held together indefinitely, in reverie and splendor.
The kind that sink into you like a sickness,
That grow into hooks strung between our chests.
We understand our world
By seeing it through each other’s words,
Our gazes and movements
Imparting wisdom only we can comprehend.
Reason and purpose,
They’re ours as disciples of one another.
In peace or war
We’re formidable as fortified emotions.
Tragedy is our past.
Romance is our blissful tragic future.
With cake and tension
We unload and collapse in each other’s voids.
Our dresses complimentary,
My blue, your red, wrapped in purple sheets.
We own our faults,
Our secrets our own to whisper in confidence.
Alive and secure within our bounds.
I can see your skeleton
Dancing wihout skin
Sickly thin but opened up
For anyone’s heart to wander in.
Peace of mind unveiled
Aware and mostly dead
But twirling in your skirt,
Dreaming as you exhale.
Free as dissipation,
Flatenned lungs kissing
Last breaths to beating hearts
Pumping through the intermission.
Roses thrown in jest
Cutting naked flesh,
Hand to your breast.
Curtsy as you walk
Ignoring all the talk,
Blending in uncomfortably
Till it’s time to dance again.
Pale as brittle bones,
Stepping with your toes,
Peeking through the blinds
To see what life you’re in.
Familiar bonds deep engrained
Exclusively expressed in obligatory superficiality,
As unspoken words of affection
Felt and understood in every awkward glance and gesture.
Lifetimes of re-enforced sentiment
Spent in care-free novelty and tumultuous tribulation.
Loyalty in our devoted blood
Rewarded only in our collective facile interaction.
Incapable as we are
To satiate our needs for attachment,
We gather nonetheless
To empower our familiar bonds.
Between our solemn personas
We’re tied to chains of intimacy,
Holding us together
As our identities are weighted down.