I’m becoming fluent in
the countless favors
of your love.
Sampling each and all
in light and sleep alike.
In spite of infinite interruptions
in the midst and very thick of
our too few tender moments
Hope floods and ripens itself
my convalescent heart.
Love, there’s no feeling greater
than the one present, after
across my flesh and frame.
None greater than your lips
fluttering like wings
against such softer places.
These kisses come so close to grace
in the yellowing
of a dawn..
I’ve labeled your embrace as mostly
a safe and secret station
and so I seek my asylum
sheltered tight between your arms.
I need you somewhere
brought to warmth beneath you
(where i’ll never come to any harm).
I’ve only slept with you twice –
And I’m not talking about the way it’s usually referenced.
I mean it in the way when there was nothing between us but the sheets on the bed and the cloths on the floor – the way we were tangled between limbs - your legs over mine, my arms over yours – the way sleeping together mimics the description of poets and authors – an intimate moment that only you and I have shared.
I wake up at night sometimes expecting you to be next to me, with your back pressed up against mine, vulnerable but comfortable. But sadly, when I look over, that side of the bed is untouched, far from the imprints that you’ve left some time ago.
I remember what it was like to wake up next to you for the first time. My body felt weightless next to yours – the way your fingers were locked with mine and the way your hair rested, covering your face with the dim light coming from the window.
I silently left you alone in the sheets for a minute – I unplugged the lights which were resting upon your rich skin, detailing just how beautiful you looked. I turned down the music and positioned myself next to you but I didn’t want to disrupt just how peaceful you were. It was as though you were fragile and any movement would shatter this moment between us. So I rested my body beside you and admired you from afar, thinking in the most cliché thought I’ve had – how lucky I was to be next to you.
Every now and then your body would twitch and a slight sigh came from your collapsed mouth – I could hear the flutter of your heartbeat slightly mimicking my own and I just wanted to hold you in this moment for however long it could last - in everything I could experience –
To the Piazza Del Campo in Sienna;
To feel the surge as ten race horses go thundering by, like the way your lips felt against mine the very first time you kissed me;
To experience an elaborate meal in Paris with you across the table;
And then to drink the highest quality of wine they have to offer;
And then another.
But the truth is, they could never replace the warmth of your skin in the cool set of sheets which rested between us;
I want a night of Jazz at the Vanguard;
I want to stand on summits and get foolishly drunk with you as we dance and feel the sun on our faces for as long as we can;
Walk across the wall and climb the tower;
Ride over rivers and stare at the frescoes;
I want to sit in the garden and write a novel, where every now and then I will look at you across the labyrinth of flowers and remember the way your smile would pierce through my skin and straight to my heart;
But most of all - I just want to fall asleep with you.
I want to find myself next to your skin every night and find myself beside you every morning, imitating, replaying, recreating, capturing, memorizing the moment I was having beside you the very first time we fell asleep – and then the second – and the many to come.
Because when I’m with you, I just want to shut off all the lights, close my eyes and tune out the world;
For when I’m with you,
I hope to be somewhere
By your side.
written by Max Beerbohm, essayist, parodist, and caricaturist (1872-1956)
It’s absolutely one of the best feelings in the world when you end up falling asleep with someone and you have an alarm set for the following day and once that alarm goes off – you’re far too comfortable with the person sleeping next to you that you decide to say fuck it, fuck you responsibilities, I’m going to cuddle and go back to sleep.
1901 // phoenix
It’s hard to accurately write what I experienced this weekend – though the thoughts are there, the words are scattered around.
I spent this weekend with someone who I’ve been getting to know slowly, as though drifting, but carefully and unsure of where the current will take me. We danced through the streets and ate dinner under an avalanched of Christmas lights as we explored Indian food over glasses of water and small talk. From there I invited her into a space which barely anyone else has ever witnessed –
But I felt comfortable and calm – her gentle smile as though welcoming and sincere – her fingers waltzing across my arms and over my tattoo – tracing lines to the tip of my palms where our fingers would lock and remain indefinitely. We found ourselves in the catacombs of my bedroom – organized with the sheets changed and the floors dusted as though to anticipate…to impress.
I felt young again in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a child, inviting my friends over before my smile became grimacing – before my sorrow became far too sinister to conquer - yet there she was, reading poetry found on the walls, left over from a boy long lost some time ago – curious and gentle.
We imprinted the sheets with our bodies and listened to classical music – studying the map of the world that hung over my bed as though plotting a great escape, far from the shadows on our walls.
We laughed till our stomachs grew weak and drank whiskey till our bodies became one.
And there were no expectations – only a curiosity for us to explore between the sheets which separated us and the cloths which fell to the floor. I don’t quite remember the night ending; only her laughter, her musk, her music and her kisses. The following morning I woke up to the gentle scent of her skin brushing up against mine – her groggy voice calmly reminding me that it was morning – that she was still there – not a fragment of my playful imagination but a part of who I was – happy and calm.
I woke up to a morning where for the first time in a very long time -
I felt alive.