3-9-11

we kissed hard in that deserted
darkness-
passion speaking loudly through our lips
and hands-
we were alone together on a scattered
world-
pilgrims in our own foreign paradise-
away from the clutches of gravity-
away from the marbled tint of reality-
you smelled just as you tasted-
ripe, and rich, and smooth-
and I ingested as much of you as I
could at that moment-
yes, it must be you-
with age comes a detachment from
the urgings of the material world-
with age comes an acceptance of
the shifting of the tides-
the many paths within a road-
the inevitable changing of the seasons-
the unpredictability of the wind-
with that acceptance comes
understanding-
with that understanding comes
assurance-
with that assurance comes the
meaning of your most treasured
dreams-
yes, it must be you-
we are like pilgrims in our own foreign
paradise-
and I brave the open seas to feel your
breath on my skin-
alone in our deserted darkness-
together in our scattered world-
passion whispering loudly through our
lips and hands-
with age comes adaptation-
a magnetism that nudges us toward the
peace that follows simplicity-
the cycle that saturates us with the
flavor of the significant-
all the rest is discarded into that
unpredictable wind-
away from the marbled tint of reality-
yes, it must be you*

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