Sunday, 21 June 2009

Lynda

When I touch you
the breath escapes me,
and I am stilled.
Within me I am always
within you.
Without you I am always
Unfulfilled.
I desire only everything,
I require only.... enough.
When this love takes me
I can only follow,
eventually.
But in the meantime do I struggle,
or spit and curse and resist
the irresistible?
Do I fear yet to lose myself
after so many years?
(But losing you, am I not lost?)
Am I, can I, should I, could I.

Touch your cheek,
your hair, your breast, your throat,
touch your eyes with mine,
and I am gone.
I am found,
I am thought,
I am motion.
I do not speak,
I am spoken.
Cannot break,
for I am broken.
Was that a rhyme?
Oh, just a token.
(as is this)