Other lovers draw me away
with promised intimacy; with
tangible security; with neon
prosperity, the glitter
of a plan; a schedule.
I sacrifice my ability to be drunk in you.
I sacrifice the allure of your distant voice for a conversation across the table.
Forgive me, forgive my affair with the immediate.
My dearest love; my righteous judge.
I'm counting down the days.
I don't know how long, but I do long.
I long for the end of all things and the beginning of the way things should be.
No comments:
Post a Comment