Not what it is

Not asking for wine. Not asking for mind boggling treasures of gifts in return. Receipt included or not, I don't give a shit. This is the truth, please believe me this time around.

I...am...in Love...with you.

No hidden phrases. No mentioning of a joke way back when.
When kids tied hands behind their backs to make obscene noises on your thighs.
And not a question of higher learning tryin to define the answer to why.
Because why is the way we live! Don't you understand! Don't you get this simplicity and yet...
We continue to walk, over these bridges, over these brooks.
Thinking of new things to say, like we're reading a book.
And that book sometimes ain't enough, you know this is SO true. And if I'm right about your color then I'd say it's all blue.
But why? Can't even that fly, sitting on that window perceive;
That new life beckons and calls us out, you and me.
To be trusted with things not yet unveiled to man. And to test whether said Love can weather such demands.
Without choice! Without hate! Without wild debate. Over demons and Angels and Love songs we bait.
With our hooks and our kettles that Angels swing by to nibble and kiss and sing lullaby's.

But only to our children, and only those we love. (You know that caps word I only use to describe what it feels like to be your only glove).
So do we bolt? Do we linger? Do we stay in this "place"?
What on earth would that do, except maybe save face.
Face is so not even what I'd like to save but a heart in his heart I would gladly put away.

Want my heart in his body? If you would just ask, I'd not fucking wait by to relieve such a task.

Sincerely, your happiness is all there is, Love. It's all there will be, most Love'd. It's all there was meant to be.

And I will continue my rant on more blessed ears. You know this, her neighbors think we're fucking because I'm constantly knockin on her door late at night. They would call her a whore but I always come alone, and not too many visit her and know her like I do. Proud to know she knows me as well. Her name is Patience, my Love. And she is your ally and closest link to what calls all things heavenly inside of storm shadows wink. And under sun setting sky in the afternoons I cry to see it glisten and sparkle off the stardust that made its way back across the wall to jewel your precious face.

As I said. I don't ask for anything not in your power to give. Quite in fact I ask nothing of you but to live.
Please just live to see your days brighter, if you think you can change taste because really, that's what's required in this maddening Love race.
But you know how I am.
You know what I am.
You know WHOM, I am.
And this promise do NOT disavow. The promise of bliss and happiness unequally shared, sounds like unequal pair. But I AM your equal. And I'll prove it with this. If said time comes around and neither one of us are dead, you will prove your Love, with your "head" outside of dread...with a kiss.
For I will NOT advance until your foot steps into that boundary of "what if" that blinds the shit out of us.

And here I will wait, wanting you to be free. Not a free that's with me but a choosing of your own reckoning.
I do not ask for your hand as if it's freely given. Or pretend there's no amends or life oaths to be taken.
But nonetheless I'm serious. Serious like poison in the hands of a 3 year old. But grown enough to handle whatever unfolds.

I'm not leaving, not taking off, not even sayin goodbye. Not ever...not ever, my Love.

And there are no other words right now.

(written: 1/27/10)