(no subject)
Untitled 8/18/04
That night on a patio deep in dreams I see your face
Nobody flies like an angel,
Flies as you do in my mind, alone soaring heedlessly through thoughts, and fears, lighting each one in a glow so soft each comes a Monet, Renoir even Matisse
My mind a wanderer’s path
Makes travel a daunting task with super magnification of life’s little obstacles and winding back and upon itself time after time
My only compass a color photo pointing me in the direction of rejection, your face pointing down a dangerous slope never to twist skyward again, as they say, to Hell in a hand basket
My only safety, my own two palms pressed as lovers do against each other, saving me from the bite of life’s whip, scars the only reminder of the pain I save in words to someone I may never meet
If somehow I was loved by someone with the intellectual caliber and heart that is of the finest gold I believe I could live forever, never having to worry about leaving behind a life, a family, a loving wife if you will it.
Lips upon your face holding back the fountain of youth from mine, slightly teasing my face, soft smell of bliss upon you…distracting me, keeping life at bay while I float aimlessly along this path not of my choosing
Why can only your hands hold me above the ground, floating?
What great strength can be held in your love, only yours?
Is it the power to make each day with you create an adventure beyond the dreams of Herman Melville himself, a story so great not even Louisa May Alcott could begin to undertake.
Quite frankly, I see you as a daunting figure with more control in my own life than even I
I give humbly my service, love and body to act as thanks to the greatness you have so easily injected into a life as meager as my own.
I love you.
"She loves me for me"