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You sit back from me, with your hands on your head, your
legs spread. Your body language speaks of endearment, I fear.
‘Cause I know how you feel, when I hold you near. I know
how you feel when I touch you. Without words you speak volumes,
but my ears will not hear. The lights are on, but there's no answer
when I knock, no invite in, or demand to leave, and I know you're
home ‘cause I saw ya in the window. Silhouette falling on
the shade. You let me hold you in my arms, and kiss your cheek,
you giggle; you are so fucking hot! I pull away, ‘cause it's
a red light district we are heading into in my mind, we go too
far, and I can not see the line between beginnings and ends, and
the lines they seem to blur between lovers and friends.
I sit back in awe at the movement we've made. It's just
been four weeks today. Since we meet by chance, should I not have
taken that course. Our fate and destiny await, was it meant to
be? Have we not known each other for eternity? It seems, we held
each other in our dreams, through the fogs a face unseen, a being
real and yet in a dream, well, anyway, that the way it is for
me, and in our last time round this dance, I wonder if your love
was unrequited? Last time ‘round? Will we have to keep going
at this ‘til we get it right? That thought grates me. I love
you so. Today, tomorrow, or in another lifetime. How many times
to get it right, You Ran. I run. Just come on once and look in
my eyes; I know you see; I know, too, you disagree.
Okay, I'm gonna say it, "Sure, I want it for me. I
love love and intimacy. I love sex, lovemaking and committing
to a soul, through acts so close and personal, the love, plants
seeds and grows, but not for reproduction, but for fruition of
thyself; I want to share with you all that we two are. Every little
nuance. Every little crevice. Ever part of us that makes us we."
You kneel before the computer table in your white socked
feet. They lay prone and innocent on the floor behind you. We
discuss the images and pictures on the screen. I lean into you,
to see what you are saying, our white socked feet meet. You do
not pull away. I lay one foot beside yours, you do not pull away.
I say, "You know I love you." You say, "I love
you too." My heart swells, sings, sores and cries, then I
move my foot away because inside I want to die. I want to lay
with you, in my arms, in your arms, between your legs, in my mouth,
in our hearts, in our heads, and in my mind, I want to give and
take the total experience of who we are, so intimate and real.
 You claim not to realize, and I know it's the truth. You
are so nice. And I know I'm unfair, and I know I'm unkind. And
I know that I love you with my soul and my mind, and still a small
part of me dies when you fall into my arms. And so cool. So calm.
So collected, you throw me a bone. You say its all right for us
to hold tight, but because we're both men, that there it should
end, and you tell me this with the wink of an eye, as I kiss your
cheek, you giggle, and hope springs ever eternal, that one day
you will see that this love is not a dream, but indeed reality,
and you know, it's me, that is accused of not dealing in such,
but just look at our love and you know you must see, oh so surely,
that I see, the reality of who we are, and the reality, you can
only come so far, in this our life, but gone tomorrow, a good
love doomed to sunder in sorrow?
I live on the hope. There is always tomorrow, and one closing
thought, going beyond what I need, please be who you are. I'll
give what ever you need. But hard it is for me, please will you
see? Even if letting go is what you need, but in turn I would
ask, can your needs be our needs?
I tremble to ask. You shutter to answer.
I lift your hand from your thigh, and you allow me to hold
it. I have never held the hand of someone I loved so much, and
yet, felt such a clinical aspect of the delight of touch. I moved
my white socked foot away from yours last night and started this
poem with you next to me, and as you talked to the computer I
wrote down what you said. I can't help but thing now, how un-ha-ha
funny it is, you said, "What's it doin’? It went down
to there; oh, I see, I'm just being stupid."
Hey Hon – look - I got it to rhyme and actually to
mean something.
But what it does mean remains to be seen. Cool, calm and
collected, I'm willing to ride, but please understand. Cool, calm
and collected, will only take me so far. Not a threat, I would
not do that to you, but out of my mouth, I might start acting
cruel, because, I just can not be with you all around, and not
think of love, and the act of going down, for the pleasure it
would bring us, (only my perspective?).
I love it when we talk. I love it when we make art, and
I love you with my heart. I want us for eternity, why beyond our
death, but to go on the way we are is ungood. An unnatural act.
But a slow turnings coming, and we're both really afraid. It will
go too far, and if it does reach it's head, I hope and pray, we
have the strength to be who we are and not fade away.
You know I love you, Honey. You know it's true. When I think of me.
I think of you.
I will do anything for you.
Promise me though, to thy own self be true.
For a part of you, is a part of me.
It always has been.
It will always be.
Come to yourself
As you come to me.
I give you my love for all times reckoned
I love you my dear.
Cool, calm and collected.
Words ©1997
lou phinneystoltz
Image: Is There Really ©2004
lou phinneystoltz |
