What If It’s Not Meant For Me?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I watched you instead.”

Breathe….

B r e a t h e . . .

Bodies have their own love language. Humans learned to make it muddled.

Intimacy is falling into a black hole.

Each letter of the word itself, shattering

Like a diamond mind.

I don’t think we’d ever let that happen.

For, You touched me in the twilight

In sober moments and yet I never felt more high.

Words were words. Powerfully exchanged and framed

And you meant them — sincerely, but they’re words nonetheless.

Your heartbeat slowed when I put my head to your chest, you grasped me tighter

pulling me into you, into you.

A mind, a heart, a whole. Into you.

Hands! These very hands locked not just with some other body, but these hands

linked with the fingertips of a beautiful universe, and I got to kiss those fingertips.

There was honesty in your eyes and a fuzzy buzzing in my belly. You sighed such a relief and you stroked my arms while I nodded off.

This was comfort

The perfect, ultimate release of dopamine.

You are humanity. Feeling the universe vibrate.

Looking past vessels, not wishing, not wondering, just being.

In a generation of mixed signals, no boundaries, and miscommunication,

it is a simple pleasure to just be, to just live.

But can we stand?

We don’t stand a chance. Are all lovers fools? If that’s the case,

We really don’t stand a chance.

I mean we are going to chalk up all these strange twilight energies between us to mean nothing?

We’re going to completely let carnal nights overcome our real desires?

Body talking to body and the closer we draw we only try to separate this into what’s good for the flesh and what’s good for discarding fragments of the heart?

We both don’t deserve to become ghosts of lovers past.

We’ve taken one another to the bed and beyond, yet stand here before the other’s eyes disdained with the war that occurs in our heads.

How dare we ignore the most basic of rights?

To simply feel or be felt, to hold or be held…

On those stardust nights, when the final credits of the movie rolled,

hands linked, souls intertwined, we stayed, you stayed.

A moment of rapture, a season of entangled emotional madness because we are told that it is always supposed to be complicated! … but sometimes it’s not.

You want me and I crave you, and we both know it. It should be simple.

In a mind where thoughts whirl about like broken pieces and lost bits in a hurricane,

you don’t run away like the others.

You watch the beautiful storm spiral and toss and disorient.

And you stayed.

You stared deeply into the darkened forest

and you still stepped foot on the cursed ground scared shitless

And You stayed…

You handed me a mirror and where I saw

broken pieces of a numb and wandering soul, you

saw fucking beauty and life and your own idea of perfection in me,

and you stayed!

We may not stand a chance, but we can take them, chances.

Become keepers of a better time. Keepers of each other.

You’re a nice treat in this life.

A pretty thought that hasn’t drifted away just yet.

Someone like you, and someone like me…

Imagine that! Two in a crowd.

I am Real Woman and you are Turning Stone.

Real Woman has eyes and heartbeat and skin to be touched.

Real Woman craves… Real Woman

starved in the darkness for so long

until Turning Stone whetted her appetite.

And Turning Stone knows.

Turning Stone understands the languages of love.

And he is no angel, no savior,

but may feel as broken as the rest of us sometimes

and still!

He stays… You stay.

It makes me elated that I get to see you

become the Lion Man you’re striving so hard to be.

That I get to be apart of this

beautiful

journey into an abyss of desires and sentiment.

I don’t know how

I’ve been allotted

the privilege of your presence,

but I wouldn’t

trade a moment with you

for anything in this world.