Give me another -
one part Jack, six parts truth.
Make mine a double,
'cause I'm still standing.
I measure my day in moments of you.
Clutching talismans of unacknowledged import.
My skin nags its ache for you -
nothing quite so sordid, I promise -
just your hand in mine.
Your Self occupying that
so conspicuously empty space
next to mine.
Oh, it's such a cliche...
I cast us as Romantic period lovers
forbidden ever to touch -
Romeo and Romeo,
sans suicide.
I'll use words to immortalise you-me-us
so Someday When
university students can pour over my lines
with apathetic glances
and giggle-whisper over hidden references
I never meant to put.
How many adjectives will it take to contain you
in rhyme and meter?
Vespertilian.
Ethereal.
Magnetic.
Addictive.
(My personal favourite.)
I'll pen epics in your honour.
Become that quintessential knight
questing for his lady's -
sorry. lord's
affection.
Will I ever win his hand?
This poor Pinocchio with naught but dreams and hope on offer.
And his heart.
His heart not once wholly given to any other.
Is that sacred enough to sway your favour?
They've killed all the dragons, love,
but there are monsters still to find.
Just name your price, I'll pay it.
I admit:
all those soppy sentiments and angst-ridden poets
waxing on love lost and not quite grasped,
I looked on with contempt and derision because
how could I -
that ever changing and unchained creature that is me -
how could I ever need another for completion?
But you.
With your quiet looks and unassuming ways.
You with your strength, your honesty,
your untamed muchness bucking to be free.
Have captivated every part of me
and pushed me toward the ranks of all those desperate
to personify and dignify and legitimise their love's desire.
So drown me.
Consume me.
Absorb me.
Transform me into that thing I crave.
Let me join the queue
of tricked out boys all saying:
oh, baby
let me fuck u hard
let me make u cum
let me swallow u
possess u
but just for tonite
but just if u can get me off
Okay.
I'd say those things, too,
given half a chance.
But it wouldn't sound right;
I'm working with higher ideals.
And proper grammar.
Usually.
So let's give this a whirl:
Oh, baby,
let me slip inside your soul,
that tricksy, shining thing you are.
Let me have all those dreams
you're too afraid to wish for,
and hold them still for you to see.
Sink sink sink into me.
But just if it's forever.
But just if you get off on that.
Let me keep you safe every tonight.
But damn, boy.
It's hard work trying to differentiate
from all those faceless names
spouting off all those selfsame words
until I love you is just code for
Hey, babe, I wanna fuck you.
And I won't deny - I can't compete.
But what I lack I make up in sincerity.
And damn, boy.
I spend so much time
trying to be pure and true,
for fear of you just hit-and-running
while denying all the ways
I want you
until all my atoms are just chanting your name.
Okay. Okay.
Just one more round,
and then we'll go.
I promise.
Same again?
I know the shape size weight of your fear
and all it's holding back.
But I'm wondering how many more times
I'm going to make jack o'lanterns in my chest
before you believe
I won't leave you damaged and lost.
I'm in it for the long haul,
and I'll carve up yet another toothy smile
if that's what you need.
Because the shape size weight of my heart -
as ever -
is you.
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