While here I was, sitting by my table, thinking about you.
I spent the whole morning a bit lost in your land, emerged in your mismatched pupils while wondering the taste of your tongue.
I sat there with your warm hands rubbing my fingers and I longed your delicacy more than ever. I wanted to touch you, to hold you, to hug you so tight so to forget our margins and disregard the boundaries of matter. I listened to your soft voice while watching you being you, laughing, talking, gesturing, and I couldn’t help but drifting into your vulnerability. I saw your eyes fill up with salty tears and all I wanted was to swim on them, to float on your secrets and duck dive into your abyss, to later peacefully sleep in your nest.
I want to hear more, to know more, to learn you from cover to current always craving the next chapter.
You are very magical to me.
You are this ocean of tides clashing into my shore, pulling me closer and close. I see a broken little bird within and all I want is to nurture it, to rock you in my arms and breast feed you with the golden nectar love is.
With care comes fear, comes the ghosts of shattered possibilities and potential lost. I have the same wonders and hesitations about getting too close, too lost in each other, afraid of, later on, losing you. And I must remind myself that fear is so paralyzing, and really only destructive to the brewing intensities that usually tend to seem easier to deny than to live. Fear is that twisted defense mechanism that overall stops one from living instead of simply existing. Fear is the stupid ego fighting hard the gut feeling we learn so hard to disregard.
And when I finally come to find myself fulfilled with the fundamental liberty whole feelings require, I realize that overall life it’s to be lived more, and anticipated less. So, with that in mind, I won’t attempt to abruptly change our dynamic. I’ll simply let it be, I’ll let us keep playing this song we’ve been subtly making, without trying to set the pace, to set the tone, the course. I’ll sing along our slow tune and let time work out our longing paths, always wishing to never be too far to forget your texture, and maybe one day, closer than just enough.
