Fingerprints of loved

 

I need something greater than most dare offer

I must have that utmost real raw connection

A kind that starves for my soul gasps- betwixt tears

 

I don’t want to live some whimsical storybook

On life’s pages we call days and or nightscape

While we’re all real pages to each other- now

 

I don’t want a kind of connection the world craves

Living lies as a world pretends a truth went untold

I want the one filled with everyday sacred nuances

 

I don’t want to love you for your blonde dyed hair

I need to love your dark roots- fearfully kept hidden

Not to shame, because they stem the realness of you

 

I don’ want to kiss colored animalistic lipstick

As it serves like some glass wall form of your lips

And thereby cheating us of our true intimacy

 

I need to trace my fingertips over your bodily canvass

Touching every blemish of your true flawed rawness

And thereby honestly touching the scars of your soul

 

I must know your ideology is a way of quotidian living

And not some culture fade of feeling excluded- so

I can respect our differences as truth, not ignorance

 

I want to tear with you when your plant prematurely dies

Not because of your feeling undeniably incompetent

But because you’ve earnestly cared enough, to love it

 

I need to love you for all the mistakes the world made

Of you while you were learning to become yourself

In your share of foolish choices, trying to correct theirs

 

I want to know smirky you can’t answer my question

Because you childishly swiped a chocolate caramel

Knowing full well they’re from my favorite stash

 

I need to feel the corner of your grin in my heart

As we speak over long distance space apart

When your image is beheld within my imagination

 

I want to see the grimace on your face

As you silently admit to losing a position

Yet refuse to utter defeat; resolve of dignity

 

I want to know your best learned knowledge

Came from tearfully watching the movie

Not some book you stumbled through in silence

 

I want to catch the stench a smoked cigarette

Clinging desperately to your perfumed skin

Not because your guilty, because your human

 

I want to embrace all your broken shards

That have become a mosaic facet of you are

In the way multicolored petals do to a flower

 

I need your perspiration to flow naturally

As we entertain each other’s lustful bodies

Thereby accepting animalistic indicative scent

 

I need to believe when life abandons my body

That you be there, still living, embracing my soul

Not because your alone; because you’ve known- me

 

I need not to be nakedly embraced void of honesty

I need to be ensnarled in all your innate perplexities

Only then will I feel finally loved…for those of mine own

 

Poet of the Light © 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

14 thoughts on “Fingerprints of loved

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s