I dread the sound of my voice
To come up with the perfect words to get shot down
By your gold standard. I knew you would not be easy.
Silence can be muted, especially when there
Is a paradigm shift to one response and a bottomless pit for the other.
The daffodil was not done any favors by
Calling it “Narcissus”. Self love can be
The vanguard movement of survival.
Kale was unheard for years back and carrots
Were not orange before the Dutch
Intervened. Still you are thrust into the spotlight;
It is letting the hiking shoes cover the
Uneven floor. I look at you and I am a bard.
The muse strums my skin pinching it
And letting it all go, in a cascade as I feel pain as pleasure.
My tongue lurks like a gangly worm in Paris
On a Tulip patch, to fence another worm
And that too for pleasure. Pleasure
Needs a morsel of risk, like a bicycle needs a chain.
The pedal is stammering out the giddiest moment
And looking at a muse and asking
Her if I can make her fall from her pedestal.
You to me are perfectly unspoken.
The human body has more organs than a band.
The pomp is not in the crashing cymbals
But in those sodden lips. When all the organs
In your supple body is telling you to give in
To the naked thrill, you want so much
To take the soul of her, along with you. One night
Stands are like single use plastics, they are
Slowly retreating to obscurity. Love
Is firmly back, more vogue than vanguard,
More crash than brash, more
Sophisticated than simple. I so far
Have earned my PHD in muted silence, and Simon
And Garfunkel, my distinguished teachers.
Can I tell you that I want to see you beyond
Your bespectacled wonderlands, I wish to
Cup your cheeks – on both sides,
I wish to see your satellites close in comfort,
As you tenderly ricochet off me,
I wish to see your beautiful vanities thaw
To the torch I am and do thrill me whole, not
With a stick of dynamite or a time bomb at
My farthest point, only the barmiest
Most quixotic and daring moment our lips can muster,
I push my lips towards you only to
Be stopped halfway. I try to recoil,
Knowing that you had affirmed me whole in
The most comforting manner possible.
I have dreamt of this moment ever since
I lay my careless eyes on you. I am the desperado,
I am as tragic as a Shakespearian play,
I am the mistral to your heavy breath,
I am seduced by your evergreen possibility.
In this, the finest moment of my existence,
I cannot seem to remember how to open my eyes,
To prolong, to procrastinate your taste,
Until I forget my inabrupt lips,
Impossibly decanted upon yours.