i am a creature of simple pleasures,
and as chaste as i myself may seem i am anything but.
for if i were the weather, i would indelibly be a sunshower: the kind where rain falls while the daylight pours through the clouds.
a fleeting moment of rare beauty,
the kind you can never tire of.
but even with the sun warming your face, encouraging benevolence;
cool drops of clear water still sting your skin:
a complicated phenomenon that only ever leaves you wanting more,
questioning it's mystery.
and if i were a place i would be one of comfort for everyone around me
but i myself have no dwelling such as that.
i live in between melodies and in and out of fantasies.
i walk with a certain conviction,
holding an appreciation for everything broken and beautiful like myself; spilling blood as sweet as ambrosia:
leaving a trail of golden nectar.
i have little things, and people, that bring me joy, make me feel a temporary comfort.
but it never lasts, by virtue of my home residing where my heart does:
traveling nomadically,
it never settles down.
and the things it reaches for,
it can never have.
because all i ever fall for i only imagine,
and my cravings for the kind of love in a book seem to get further away with each waking moment.
i can only ever attempt to catch up in my sleep,
and even then when i reached for his hand he pulled away.
because a written story has a beginning,
a middle,
and a happy ending.
and he is only looking for a shivering mist that never quite dissipates, and like a rainbow, doesn't seem to have a point of start or finish: an infinite bridge.
but isn't every chapter of life confined to a certain set of pages?
those fairytales stay on those same fresh, beige paper,
putting on the same play every time they are reread.
and with my heart eternally adrift overboard,
it seems my daydreams will be subjected to endlessly waiting for me on shore as penelope did for odysseus.
im sure i too feel as she did,
wishing to know which words will be our last to each other.
wishing for at least one embrace from him before he leaves for evermore.
even if it means aphrodite plunges a blade through my chest i will take that chance;
for i am easy to have and to love,
but hard to keep, and infinity difficult to ever find again.

-s.c