We peer as if behind delicate lace-work to soften
Need – weighted with a terrible tinge, puce maybe?
Whispering aches only heard by wall art
Behind cool darkened doors of solitude.
It appears in couched terms
Divulged in metaphor, spun in rhyme
Shrouded in lyrical prose; mirages no one sees but
All see, in this overcrowded desert of bodies.
Emperors all are we
Scribbling in our invisible clothes, startled
If spotted behind our woven illusion, when
A fellow wanderer drinks at our mirage to slake thirst
Relief echoes in vibrato, rapidly rushing
Shell of pretense cracked and shucked, into
The refuse bucket, delicate innards shimmer, anticipatory
And rush we, into shared weaknesses and frailty
-Need nestled against need.
Keep me near you, like a well-worn, revisited book
That favored one you caress the pages of before
Succumbing to slumber, the thoughts that frame your dreams.
Sleep, letting the essence of me float through your resting mind
Rummaging gently through your unguarded nooks and crannies
Causing your lips to curve in a soft, sleepy smile
Awaken, with thoughts of me scattering
Like startled sheep on a hillock
Giving you pause before throwing your legs over the bedside
Feel, as you face the mirror to shave, me
Grazing my fingertips against the stubble and pulse
Halting your breath a bit before you continue the ritual
Let me inhabit you, be the whistle on your lips
The niggling song you can’t put out of your mind
That accompanies you throughout the day with a smile
I can be with you, while without you
Like the river that ducks underground
Resurfacing miles later, present, but unseen
Sustaining, always flowing, moving through you via my inhabitation of your heart.
Inspiration: While working on my recent other post ‘Stone Cold?’, I thought about what want feels like for me. How it feels when someone inhabits my thoughts. How I want to be wanted by another, and so I dressed this other with the way it feels for me to want, how the wanted flows through my life when it is going on. It is gentle, but steadfast. It makes me smile at odd times during the day. But can one have that expectation of another, that they will want in like manner? Inhabitation is by invite, differing from possession.
I also realized that while I’m being pragmatic over there on my other blog, the romantic part of me has to get out somewhere, which is, ahem, apparently here. We all have more than one side, and dissonance comes when they wrestle for primacy.
Water is something that nurtures and supports life, and my mental imagery is that for what I consider loving – it is both sustaining, and sustainable. However, excessive consumption of water can make it run dry. Do you think that is true also, of loving?
(and…apologies for the birdsong that accompanies the reading. I thought of re-recording, but, I often write against the backdrop of nature, and what bird is not drawn to water?)