i shall call you the moon

My baby, maybe you were mine for a second in the wrong phase of the moon. Soft ebony millipedes collide with sunkisses in sunsets, scratching my cheeks, leaning into your chest too soon. My baby, maybe, you were mine for a minute. Crossing dusky bridges, getting all a bit too big for your britches.

Giggling and thinking and linking and sinking, in a blink, you’re gone, that’s your party piece, semantic memory itches. Dinner and cut flowers, romantic rambles in landscapes meant for someone else’s footsteps. A window into your soul and you were mine as long as you were to let.

You’re too complicated for words in my diction, airy whims turn into obsession. Laughing to myself at six feet of primal beef, once hench, flexed and stealthy. This compulsive disorder is not healthy. To be comparing and hexing, flicking the flocking. I’m staring and vexing, unticking the boxes. Too much effort into needless scenes.

Dare I venture a thought at what it could possibly mean? But you had me when you called Am without even thinking, and it was probably nothing, and you had me before, when you said Hello, I am, eclectic. No, that is what it means. I stop dead, suddenly dyslexic. Thoughts uncollected. Is that you? No, really that is what I thought.

My heart suspends over a hot tin roof, I met you before I met you before you met me in your dreams. Your chilled glazed glare, shatters and dissolves me into baby state. Don’t be mistaken, I think I know you’re there, drip feeding life lines. Strengthening your pulse. Culturing pearls. Evolving, as I disintegrate into an array of napkins. I live and die lifetimes in every second, unabated breath, debated and then sedated.

I feel as if I am subconsciously waiting for you. But my brain calls it stages. Like Divine Comedy. On a path, because you’re worth it. This didn’t even start about you, it was meant to be generic. Yet here you are. Blinding me with every syllable.

Now you think she’s too eccentric, inner monologous bio graphics pushing boundaries too far. Mind killer. Money spinner. Heart stealer. Soul keeper.  Bear and a bee.  Can you miss someone you don’t really know having known him for centuries?  But you would just say, I let myself feel this way.

ink is free, so...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s