Poetic ness

Poem ONE:

I wish I knew you now, spend time getting lost in your words, not lost in translation, but lost in a conversation so enticing that I could talk to you for an indefinite body of time.

I wish I could taste your cooking, speak your non-verbal language, feel your hands after a long days work.

I think about the escapades and sexcapades we will luxuriate ourselves with, more times than one.

I look forward to you resting your head on my lap, and me kneading your scalp until you fall asleep. And that face, you’ll make when you’re absolutely relaxed, I want to know that face. 

I imagine your natural fragrance would smell like cedar, rugged sophistication or a labyrinth of purity. I have yet to overindulge in it, yet i miss it.

I have never come in contact with you.

I have never forgotten you.

Who are you seizing a secure place in the margins of my mind?

And if I dissect the real you, strip you away from all of your superficialities, will the fibers of your natural character allow you stand erect, or will you crumble?

If you crumble, I don’t want you, I don’t need you. Because at that point there’s nothing you could do for me that I can’t do for myself.

I want to be able to admire you; I want you to be my teacher, my sea, simultaneously, I need space to breathe in my sea, to grow independently of you.

You and I have will have our own lives but make time for each other in it.

And until you can grasp the words I have painted, I don’t want to know you, I will no longer ask questions and crave you do not appear before me.

But when you are ready to react, we will be whisked away into an artistic, unscripted world of brilliance- just you and I.

Where you’ll be my tick and I’ll be your tock.

And we’ll sit comfortably on the sidelines, watching the world we mock.

We will rewrite our history and set the tone for our plot.

And just love life for every little flair it’s brought. 

As the world continues to turn, our adventure may stop.

I will be fortunate to have grown with you, you, the one I originally sought.

Poem TWO:

I was soul starved.

Gallivanting around the world searching for passions on top of passions- great foods, wines, conversations and plural partners.

Craving a salacious connection to art, foxiness, open-mindedness and wisdom of a different kind.

Yearning to transform into a person that lives, not a person who thinks about living, but a person who truly, wholeheartedly lives.

I want to be decorated with all the things that I still imagine, but can’t see.

Corroded by a love that is so full that it is spilling on to everything and everyone that is in its peripheral.

It’s not a perfect love, there is no ‘perfect love,’ but there does exist a love that is pure and limitless, even in hateful times.

At last, for that moment I will be at liberation.

In a place where reality and sweet dreams have met, breeding a beautiful, spoiled, uncompelled existence.

I’m spinning in my new orbit. Revivifying an intense joy that I didn’t know was absent for all this time.

Although overtime, my orbit will stall and I’ll continue to search… for something that is beyond me.

At least I will explicity know what I dont want tainting and lingering in my sea of curiousity. 

Which is to be caged by the structure police, like the contrived populace of the world.  

Poem THREE: Mental Exhausion
I’m caught in a fire that burns so pleasurably.
Spitting image of perfection is staring me in the face, open mouthed.
Which of the two do I chase, to labour into an uncultivated, ravishing love affair?
One taste like luscious, strawberry shortcake that deserves lifetime indulgement.
The other charming comfort food, a five course meal of charming comfort food.
I knew you could be.
I knew you could be.
When you invited me into your life, painting words of why we connect, it made flawless sense for us to happen, for real.
But I already own something beautiful that makes  sense to me now.
I’m in love with love, whose love is unclear.

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