dedicated
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I want to trace your hand with my fingertips,
Dabbled silhouette against sun rays pouring into the attic window,
Bathing the dusty, wooden chairs
(that we picked up at a fancy man's move).
I want to feel your lashes flutter against my cheek
When, at last, noon hits past the shredded and stained curtains.
And you, breathing softly,
Still in the opaqueness of dreamy veils,
With me, smiling eyes closed,
Watching the slow rise and fall of your serenity.
I want to sit on some autumn day,
Drenched in the orange of afternoon,
Blinking away glimmers of glittering gold dust,
Seeing you running around the grass,
Uttering something that makes no difference.
Because, I'm witnessing the darkness lift from your soul,
The dead knots dissipate...
And you carrying away my own nightmares.
You give me back innocence lost
You give me insouciance of childhood
You give me faith to seize the moon
You give me a part of me that I've never known.
For all those times we neared that something fatal,
Through it that you clung on,
I want to kiss your mouth and see the glimmer hasn't changed.
For all those moments that you were the hypocrite mocking romance,
Then realizing the magic of our mutual swooning,
And the truth in your loved one's ode to you,
I want to tell you how proud I am to hold your hand.
For all the conversations you've fought the mental walls,
Twisting your brow, staring blankly at the ground,
Then, coming up with one last phrase that blew me away
With more depth than you let on...
I want to be with you in the fog of dawn.
And for the while whilst you feel inadequate,
Whimpering with hollow meaning,
Gracing your grave with self-criticism, or loathing,
And then, you let me lift your chin to my smiling gleam,
I want to hold your sleeping head in my lap forever on rainy mornings.
For the first time you flew without aid and believed,
Told me you love me without diluting the effect without insecurity,
Then sealed the second with silence,
I want to love you with the future of my will.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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