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