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Blind Me, Love
Close, so warm, soft and true
there is nothing to hold me back,
no inhibition, no false fear-
your hands gently fall on my waist
and remain there until you decide
that I am too far away,
and we don't bear the distance for another minute
before my cheek brushes onto yours
a beautiful color
sparking electricity across our deadened skin,
jolting life upon it,
thus instinct has the better of us
so my arms fold around your shoulders
trying to become the barrier of your protection
against all that can harm you-
falling desolate in failure,
and my eyes, so muddy, aren't sure how yours
can see through their fog,
so they continue to soak up vulnerability
desperatly seeking any reason to your presence,
finding themselves contently
blinded.
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Favorite Quote:
A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep.
~Salman Rushdie