Who has come to know a kind of love,
so deep that even the wisdom of the ocean can't reach
than she who lets her snores
sing blissfully on your contented arms,
on those premeditated Sundays
that are never long enough
to bucket your precious smiles on my collarbones
with tears playing hide and seek beneath our eyelids
counting down to my return
to a world farther away from your finger tips
I wonder...

I always keep to myself
hurdling in and out of the echoes of silence
at your every knock at my door
unsure as to whether I should permit you to go further than you already have,
to my pleasure’s zenith
while my fingers lavishly
calculate the distance between your breasts
marvelling at how a space so small
have turned into a galaxy that has mothered
so many of my consummation.
I have always wanted to be an astronaut

I sometimes behave like a lost child
counting countless sheep in my sleep
building a home
beneath your every smile
willing to let me stay in, temporarily just for a cold night beyond forever
I swear I am wealthy enough to pay your mother an eternal visit
with 21 more live cows and the heart of a lamb to earn her support
Please, just come see the depths of my back pocket
you will love the complexities of all the words I have authored
I can pay for most of your smiles with my begotten lyrics,
You will never lack.

Though I so many times have stood at the shorelines
of your discontentment and have heard the thunder of your words
when my hands were too small to swallow the dewdrops of your pain
and my vindications could not match the crime
I promise I usually don't behave
like a hooligan without a home
but I do sometimes try too hard to make myself
into a perfect stranger you can take pride
in taking to your home
I promise I will try less next time
It’s just that
I like the sounds the pores of your skin
make in adulation
as I bend to kiss the feet of your soul
it’s a break taking story of how the Volcano met Water