62)
Dim The lights
(Please)
Let the candles glow
or let the candles do their trick
and let them flicker in the soft light,
just after the sun goes down
or sinks in the horizon,
as if the sun is doused
as it slips into the palm
of Mother Earth’s hand.
Let the moment evolve
into the mixture
of pleasure and paradise,
and let the moonlight
enter the room like
the spirit of heaven’s afterlife,
which is, of course,
and most certainly alive and well
and most certainly
ongoing,
as in infinite
like the sea of stars above the roof
which covers our heads.
Allow yourself to sink
into the moment
the same way the body
slips into a gentle bath,
which, of course,
I use this as an intimate innuendo
or as a symbolic metaphor
of how the body feels
at the moment of ecstasy
or what I mean is
this is the feeling when
man slides forward
and enters the gates
that contains the seas
of his external love.
She the universe and more to him
and to which
all he has is his will to
enter her,
as in
to enter her gates and spill himself
into her sea.
Do you understand?
Do you see?
If so, then please
breathe with me,
(he says to her with all of his heart)
and breathe with me
like when your body erupts
and when you quiver in the aftershock
of a sexual quake that pulsates
through your body
after the aftermath takes place.
Close your eyes.
Dream.
Rest in the arms of my abandoned soul
and allow me to be rediscovered
and found in the color of your eyes.
Sleep.
Allow your face to press against the pillow
and curl beside me
or dream of me lying behind you;
the tops of my legs
pressed into the back of your thighs,
my length or should I say
my manhood is placed
at the crack of your backside
as in dead-center
behind you, close
my chest against your back,
and my left arm under your neck
with my right arm
draped over you
and across your stomach.
I love it this way.
I really do.
Let me pull you close,
or be even closer.
63)
Perhaps I should keep this simple
yet, I question if anything is ever simple
when it comes to love.
Yet, and nevertheless,
I am here, of course, encountering the sun
which has arisen like the dawn of promise
or the birth of something new.
I want this.
You . . .
which is really nothing other than a plea
that says
do not listen to me
when I am afraid
because I am afraid
that I might say something I do not mean
and you might think I mean something
I cannot say.
And, so. this
is the spirit behind this
or behind me
and this is my truth
the fear of a timid boy inside
a man who wants nothing more
than to love you,
as in forever.
64)
I want to breathe out
so that you can breathe in.
I want to inhale you
and take you into me.
I want to feel your skin
against me
but more,
I want to be so close to you
that I can feel you on the other side.
I want to feel your heartbeat,
and alas, I want to know
that you are alive and real
here
and in the flesh.
65)
My love is like this:
searching, hoping,
stepping like a child’s toes
as he walks through the grass of a dream
of an open field,
Set beneath a blue sky
with hills, ever rolling and ever sweeping
just like the wind that blows
through the wheat and makes the blades of grass
bend with joy.
I see this as the same
or no different from how the sun
warms the skin; and yes,
my love is like this
true, innocent and pure,
like the child in the field
or like the dove
which flies above us
to bring us peace.
66)
My love is uncertain at times
but my love is true and tested,
beaten and broken
but I am not ruined nor
am I beyond repair.
I am healing
and hurting
which only means one thing:
I am human
unlike you,
an angel, or otherwise,
my princess –
and my dream.
My love is exactly like this,
like a song, like my youth
like a rush of adrenaline
that makes me free enough to scream
and carry on
and I can drive down the street, untouchable
and unscathed,
unbeatable and unstoppable
because, after all,
I am in love.
I never thought that I could feel this way – but I do
and nothing in the world
can ever take that away from me.
Not even you
67)
I have nothing else to compare this to,
meaning you,
or meaning the way you feel to me,
or how anything, or everything about you
somehow brings a thrill to my soul
which I can feel in every sense of the word.
I can see you in my dreams, still
and trace the outlines of your figure.
God, I think to myself
she is beautiful;
and so,
this sends a rage through my bloodstream
because when I see you,
I am, of course,
unstoppable. Moreover,
I am undeniably taken
or “Stolen,”
by you.
I cannot explain this,
nor am I sure that I understand this myself
which, perhaps,
maybe the reason I cannot understand
or explain because this is bigger
and more than I ever imagined –
and thus, I am weak, yet,
I am stronger now than ever before
but equally scared too because
what if this is too good to be true –
or, maybe I should see this in a different light.
Maybe this is too good to be anything but true.
I am gentle,
yet, I am rabid like a beast at the same time.
I am hungry with an appetite
that can never be stopped,
never satiated,
or satisfied.
I have a thirst
that can never be quenched; and thus
when it comes to you,
I will never get my fill
and I will always want more
with the key-emphasis on the word more,
like when the hungry plead for food,
as if this meal will be the only one
and then hungry will never eat again.
I am crazy too
because when it comes to you
or when it comes to the feel
or the sensation of your skin,
or the bliss from your touch
my hunger for you
will never cease, nor desist,
nor stop, or go away.
I am this way
with you.
Yet, I am the sum of countless imperfections.
I am the compilation of irrational ideas.
I admit to this.
I admit that this is what causes me to calculate the wrong
math, to which I add the wrong numbers
and assume the worst
and hence,
my insecurities beat me to the punch
and thus,
I miss my step,
or look away
when in fact
all I want to do
is see your face
or allow my heart to melt
in the wealth of your eyes.
I can be a hero
I can be a villain
I can be the village idiot
and I could be the court jester.
I can be the poor man,
I could be no one at all;
but even if the world
was to go to the dogs,
all was shipped to hell;
I would be the one
who has it all
so long as I have you.
68)
Dim the lights
lay close
and press the side of your face
against my chest.
Come closer, please.
Don’t move.
I want to feel the weight of your body.
No, wait.
I want to feel everything.
Stay here, with me
because at the moment
when my final lights go out
and my exhale escapes for the last time,
this is the time
that I want to look back upon
so I can remember
and say, yes. . .
she was all mine.
The morning is only beginning;
and me,
I was just driving down the FDR
alongside The East River,
New York City
and heading Downtown –
I saw the sun come up.
And tears filled my eyes.
Sometimes
the world is beautiful enough
to be lived without words
and sometimes,
the love in my heart
is more than enough
to be just as beautiful
without any words.
I love the morning sky. I love when the sun
makes its way to the center of the stage.
I love it
when the colors of dawn take place –
This is what reminds me that despite the craziness
and all the bullshit that goes on,
I know you are there,
just like the sun
always beaming
and always willing
to share your warmth.
God, I love you.
I just hope you know
and if you don’t
well, maybe now . . .
You do
The Written Addiction 